THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT  OF 

E.  D.  KIRSCHMAa 


REASON  and  DOGMA 


OR 


FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL 


By  Rev.  HENRY  TRURO  BRAY,  M.  A.,  B.  D.,  LL.  D. 

Author  of 

"GOD  AND  MAN," 
"THE  EVOLUTION  OE  A  LIFE,"  etc. 

Third  and  Revised  Edition 


CHICAGO 

TRURO   PUBLISHING   COMPANY 
I899 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress  in  the  year  1894. 
BY    HENRY   TRURO   BRAY, 

In  the  office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington, 


THE   REGAN   PRINTING  HOUSE,    CHICAGO. 


Pluris  est  oculatus  testis  units  quam  auriti  decent. 

(Plautus.) 

Multos  puto  ad  sapientiam  potuisse  pcrvenissc  nisi  pu- 
tassen  t  se  perven  issc .  {Seneca . ) 

Speak  a  word  in  season  to  him  that  is  weary. 

{Isaiah.) 


NOTE  FROM  THE  AUTHOR. 


Although  certain  portions  of  the  present  woik  appeared  in 
one  of  the  author's  former  publications,  "The  Evolution  of  a 
Life."  a  work  of  which  only  a  small  edition  had  been  sold  when 
the  author,  for  personal  reasons,  slopped  its  further  publication; 
nevertheless,  the  present  work  is  so  different  in  substance,  and 
so  wholly  different  in  method  and  arrangement,  from  "The 
Evolution  of  a  Life"  that  it  is  absolutely  necessary  it  should 
have  a  new  title,  one  indicative  of  its  true  character  and  contents. 

HENRY  TRURO  BRAY. 

Chicago,  111.,  Aug.,  1894. 


CONTENTS. 


Page 
CHAPTER  I. 
The  Foundation  and  Limits  of  Dogma *3-23 

CHAPTER   II. 
Heredity  and  Environment 23~3o 

CHAPTER  III. 
Fruits  of   Study 30-42 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Credulity ■  •  42~53 

CHAPTER    V. 
Knowledge  and    Belief 53" 

CHAPTER   VI. 
Self-Deception 62~71 

CHAPTER  VII. 
The  Greatest  Is  Charity 71~87 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
The  Curse  of  Avarice 87-99 

CHAPTER  IX. 
Lamps  without  Oil • . 99-i°+ 

CHAPTER  X. 
Faith  without  Works lo*~l  ' 4 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Imputed  Righteousness II4"1  -G 

CHAPTER  XII. 
Brotherly  Love . ...  126- . 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    XIII. 
False  Spirits 137-146 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Debasement  of  Religion 146-156 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Unreasonable   Dogmas 156-164 

CHAPTER   XVI. 
Loyalty  to  Truth 164-170 

CHAPTER   XVII. 
The  Call  of  Duty 170-178 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Clerical  Skepticism 178-184 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
Words  and# Works   184-191 

CHAPTER  XX. 
Dishonorable   Conduct 191-202 

CHAPTER    XXI. 
The  Dogma  of  Creation 202-221 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
Thoughts  of  an  Honest  Priest 221-233 

CHAPTER    XXIII. 
Divine  Conceptions 233-240 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 
The  Judge's  Statement  of  the  Case 240-247 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
The  Judge's  Conclusion 247-259 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 
Husk,  and  Kernel 259-268 

CHAPTER   XXVII. 
Discussion  of  a  Priest  and  a  Warden 268-276 


CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    XXVIII. 
Quieting  a  Mother's  Anxiety 276-2S2 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 
Law  and  Ecclesiasticism 282-294 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
One  God — One  Humanity 294-308 

CHAPTER   XXXI. 
A  Priest  and  a  Physician  on  Ecclesiasticism 30S-318 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 
The  Resurrection 31S-338 

CHAPTER   XXXIII. 
The  Heavenly  Adversary 338~346 

CHAPTER   XXXIV. 
Happiness  and   Virtue 346-35^ 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
Death  and  Immortality 356~374 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 
An  Inquisitive  Visitor 374_38f» 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 
God  and  the  World 386~397 

CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 
Reason  Prevails 397-4°7 

CHAPTER    XXXIX. 
The  Barriers  Are  Broken 407-418 

CHAPTER  XL. 
The  Old  and  the  New 41S-436 


' '  For  he  knew  that  no  man  is  an  orphan;  but  that  there 
is  an  eternal  Father  who  careth  continually  for  all. ' ' 

{Epictetus,  referring  to  Hercules. ) 


PREFACE. 


This  work  may  be  called  a  religio-philosophical  novel; 
although  the  matter  of  the  book  is  fact,  not  fiction. 

Between  reason  and  dogma  there  has  always  been 
waging  a  most  deadly  strife,  which  has  never  been  more 
universal  than  to-day.  In  these  pages  are  set  forth  truly 
and  fully,  with  all  the  attendant  circumstances,  causes, 
reasons,  and  results,  the  origin  and  growth  of  this  strife, 
in  the  soul  of  an  honest  and  scholarly  clergyman.  Henry 
Merton  was  a  real  man  among  men;  and  the  mental  labors, 
spiritual  sufferings,  heart  bereavements,  and  whatever  else 
is  related  in  this  work,  are  real  experiences,  and  not  the 
work  of  imagination. 

The  incidents  and  occurrences  of  the  average  novel, 
while  they  may,  or  should,  be  possible,  are  scarcely  ever 
actual;  in  other  words,  while  they  may  not  be  contrary  to 
human  experience,  they  are  hardly,  and  perhaps  never, 
experienced  by  one  and  the  same  person.  But  in  this 
work  there  is  nothing  made  for  the  occasion.  Neither  art 
nor  imagination  has  been  allowed  to  run  wild,  or  frame 
words  not  in  themselves  living  realities.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  a  few  fictitious  names,  every  sentence  in  this 
work  is  but  the  footprint  of  a  human  soul,  and  that  too  of 
a  soul  burning  with  a  love  of  truth  and  righteousness. 

Here  we  have  portrayed,  as  they  actually  occurred,  the 
doubts  and  fears  of  an  honest  mind  equipped,  as  but  few 
are  found  to  be,  with  abundant  means  for  thorough  in- 


11  PREFACE. 

vestigation;  and  possessing,  to  a  very  rare  degree,  a  firm 
resolution  to  probe  these  doubts  and  fears  to  the  very 
bottom,  at  whatever  costs.  First,  we  see  the  causes  that 
gave  rise  to  these  doubts  and  fears;  secondly,  their  growth 
and  development;  and,  thirdly,  their  reasons  and  results. 

Henry  Merton  sought  the  truth  as  only  the  few  ever 
seek  it,  for  the  great  host  of  mankind  follow  their  leaders; 
and  the  latter,  sad  to  say,  are  in  general  bound  by  the 
three  forces,  prejudice,  custom,  and  self-interest,  to  es- 
tablished usages  and  customs;  and  what  these  three  forces 
fail  to  accomplish,  ignorance  for  the  most  part  perfects. 

Thus  there  is  but  little  opportunity  for  the  birth  and 
growth  of  Truth.  Should  Truth  happen  to  be  conceived, 
it  is  probably  blighted  in  gestation;  should  it  fortunately 
pass  this  stage,  it  will  likely  perish  in  infancy  for  the  lack 
of  sufficient  nourishment;  but  should  it  marvelously  reach 
maturity,  then  will  it  be  exposed  to  the  blandishments  of 
ten-thousand  false-hearted  lovers,  or  tread  Gethsemane 
alone,  drink  the  bitter  cup  of  persecution  prepared  by 
Superstition  and  Bigotry,  and  probably  finally  lay  its  life 
down  as  the  reward  of  its  own  spotless  virtue,  and  as  a 
sacrifice  for  the  good  of  humanity. 

If  the  conclusions  at  which  Merton  arrived,  and  which 
are  in  this  book  worked  out,  are  true,  then  is  the  religious 
nature  of  man  grievously  burdened  with  dogmas  no  less 
pernicious  than  unnecessary;  and  if  these  conclusions  are 
not  true,  then  is  all  reason  astray,  and  science  deceptive. 
But  if  reason  be  astray,  and  science  deceptive,  humanity 
can  believe  in  nothing,  trust  in  nothing,  hope  for  nothing; 
for  whether  wrong  or  right,  we  have  only  the  lamp  of 
reason  to  go  by,  and  the  foundation  of  reason  to  stand  up- 
on; for  even  if  we  admit  a  divine  and  infallible  revelation, 
we  admit  it  only  because  we  believe  it  to  be  reasonable. 
Nor  is  there  any  person  to  be  found  in  the  whole  world, 


PREFACE.  HI 

who  will  admit  that  his  beliefs,  however  monstrous,  are 
unreasonable  in  themselves.  It  is  certain  to  all  that,  in 
the  words  of  L,ocke,  "  Reason  must  be  our  last  judge  and 
guide  in  everything".  It  is  not  at  all  likely,  therefore, 
that  any  person  would  be  so  rash  as  to  assert  that  the  reason 
of  the  world,  for  the  last  twenty-five  hundred  years,  has 
been  astray;  and  since  science  is  nothing  but  objective 
reason,  or  reason's  legitimate  and  necessary  results,  it  can 
not  be  that  the  world  of  science  is  deceived.    . 

That  the  conclusions  which  Merton  arrived  at,  and 
which  are  in  this  book  worked  out,  are  true  therefore,  we 
do  not  in  the  least  doubt ;  and  we  are  certain  that  the  whole 
purely  scientific  world  gives  us  its  unqualified  support  as 
against  the  superstitions  of  the  age. 

Nor  do  we  doubt  but  that,  if  the  readers  of  this  work 
accept  the  conclusions  herein  specified,  they  will  be  hap- 
pier, more  reasonable,  more  divine,  and  more  god-like, 
enjoying  more  of  heaven,  and  living  more  as  Christ  would 
have  them  live. 

From  whatever  side  we  look  at  this  book,  it  must  result 
in  a  blessing  to  him  who  carefully  reads  and  inwardly  di- 
gests its  contents.  While,  on  the  one  hand,  the  incidents 
and  experiences  related  are  full  of  absorbing  interests;  on 
the  other  hand,  the  information  the  work  contains  on  the 
Scriptures,  theological  dogmas,  creeds,  and  other  matters, 
is  very  great;  the  morals  it  inculcates  are  of  the  very  highest 
order;  and  its  theology  is  broad,  elevating,  reasonable, 
world-embracing. 

But  he  who  would  derive  the  full  benefit  from  the  read- 
ing of  this  work,  must,  in  the  words  of  Huxle)',  "  pluck 
the  blessed  fruit  from  the  tree  of  knowledge,  unconcerned 
whether  these  conquests  trench  upon  the  poetical  imagin- 
ation of  faith  or  not ' ' .  This  may  be  hard  in  certain  cases 
to  do;  but  such  fearless  love  of  truth,  of  God,  of  humanity, 


IV  PREFACE. 

never  fails  of  its  great  reward:  for  above  all  other  encour- 
agements and  blessings,  is  this  one  truth, 

' '  Die  Unschuld  hat  im  Himmel  einen  Frennd." 

THE  AUTHOR. 

Chicago,  1894. 


REASON  AND  DOGMA 

OR 

FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL, 


CHAPTER   I. 

INTRODUCTION. 
THE    FOUNDATION    AND    LIMITS    OF    DOGMA. 

Quid  tarn  temerarium  tamque  indignum  sapientis  gravitate 
atque  constantia  quam  aut  falsuin  sentire  aut  quod  non  satis  ex- 
plorate  perceptum  sit  et  cognitum,  sine  ulla  dubitatione  defen- 
dere — What  is  so  audacious  or  so  unworthy  the  gravity  and 
equanimity  of  the  wise  man,  as  to  entertain  a  falsehood,  or  to  de- 
fend unhesitatingly  what  is  not  sufficiently  clearly  understood  and 
known.  (die.:    Be  Nat.  Deor.  I.  i.) 

The  nature  and  destiny  of  man,  the  origin  of  the 
cosmos  and  how  it  is  governed,  are  questions  which  have 
always  interested  the  greatest  that  have  ever  lived,  and 
can  not  fail  to  be  of  surpassing  interest  to  all  future  gen- 
erations. True,  we  have  heard  some  say  that  they  care 
nothing  for  these  things;  but  certain  it  is  that  such  an 
admission  on  the  part  of  any  person  is  conclusive  proof  of 
mental  degeneration,  or  of  a  lack  of  those  finer  and  more 
exalted  powers  essential  to  the  highest  development,  or 
to  harmony  with  nature  and  its  laws. 

It  can  not  be  denied,  however,  that  thinking  men 
have  drifted  away  from  the  church,  nor  that  in  general 
they  have  become  unbelievers,  or  radically  indifferent. 
And  although  some  may  imagine  that  unbelief  is  worse 
than  indifference,  we  are  free  to  say  that  this  is  not  true. 
Rather  are  we  sure  that  of  all  states  man  can  assume, 
that  of  indifference  is  the  worst,  the  most  inimical  to  his 

(13) 


14  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

present  and  future  welfare.     Superstition  is  bad,  a  clog 
to  the  soul's  development,  and  an  impassable  barrier  to 
the  highest  mental  progress;   but  indifference  is  much 
worse,  for  this  gives  no  incentive  to  labor  either  for  the 
present  or  future,  but  kills  hope  and  deadens  ambition. 
Shocked  at  the  discovery  of  the  fallacious  character  of 
their  religious  belief,  it  is  not  uncommon  for  persons  most 
devotedly  religious  to  cast  aside  gradually  their  former 
convictions,  and  finally  assume  a  position  exactly  opposite 
to  that  which  they  formerly  held.     True  religion  is  found 
between  the  lack  and  excess  of  religious  faith,  or  between 
unbelief  and  superstition;  but  its  discovery  is  not  a  very 
easy  matter,  for  few  are  they  with  that  equipoise  of  mind 
and  heart  necessary  to  their  finding  it.     When  once  this 
golden  mean  is  found,  the  universe  seems  more  harmoni- 
ous, the  cosmos  a  unity,  the  earth  brighter,  and  the  fut- 
ure more  hopeful;  and  he  who  loves  truth  for  its  own 
sake,  who  is  willing  to  divest  himself  of  prejudice,  and 
follow  the  light  of  pure  reason  as  it  scatters  the  darkness 
of  ignorance  and  error,  can  not  seek  this  golden  mean  in 
vain;  and,  when  found,  he  will  be  richly  repaid  for  the 
energies  he  may  have  expended.     It  is  for  this  golden 
mean  that  man  should  seek,  that  he  may  know  more  of 
God  and  man,  more  of  the  present,  more  of  the  future; 
that  he  may  be  blessed  more  and  more  with  the  freedom 
of  reason,  and  liberated  more  and  more  from  the  shackles 
of  ignorance  and  superstition. 

When  one,  after  having  had  unlimited  faith  in  another, 
finds  his  confidence  to  have  been  misplaced,  and  himself 
to  have  been  defrauded  and  maligned  by  the  very  person 
whom  he  had  regarded  as  the  dearest  of  all  his  friends, 
his  faith  in  mankind  receives  a  rude  shock,  and  he  prob- 
ably becomes  misanthropic,  and  distrustful  of  all.  This 
is  but  natural,  for  man  is  a  child  of  extremes.  Thus  is  it 
in  regard  to  man's  religious  faith.     Rocked  in  the  cradle 


THE    FOUNDATION    AND    LIMITS    OF   DOGMA.  1 5 

of  superstition,  with  his  mind  stored  with  everything  but 
religious  realities,  and  his  imagination  peopled  with 
priestly  creations,  man  is  prone  to  rush  to  the  extremes 
of  unbelief  and  indifference,  on  discovering  the  untenable 
character  of  his  childhood's  faith.  On  finding  the  symbol 
of  his  faith  irreconcilable  with  science,  and  repugnant  to 
his  own  sense  of  justice  and  right,  he  concludes  that  there 
is  no  true  faith,  or  declares  with  the  fool  "that  there  is 
no  God. ' '  The  foundations  of  his  own  temple  having 
been  washed  away,  built  on  the  shifting  sands,  he  can 
not  readily  believe  that  others  may  have  been  more  for- 
tunate, nor  that  there  is  a  temple  which  abideth  forever, 
founded  deeply  in  the  rock  of  eternal  reason  and  truth. 
Happy  are  those  who  pause  and  think  before  they  heed- 
lessly cast  themselves  adrift  to  be  beaten  about  by  the  ebb 
and  flow  of  the  tide,  or  to  be  driven  about  by  the  chang- 
ing winds,  without  care,  without  purpose,  an  enigma  to 
themselves,  and  a  wonder  to  the  gods.  It  may  be  that 
the  weak-minded  man  must  be  either  a  drunkard  or  a 
total- abstainer,  but  the  properly-balanced  one  will  find 
rest  in  temperance.  Thus  it  is  true  that  the  man  unac- 
quainted with  nature  and  its  laws,  delights  in  myths,  and 
finds  pleasure  in  the  dogmas  of  a  coarse  and  blood)'  re- 
ligious faith;  and  when  by  chance  or  endeavor  he  sees  the 
error  of  his  ways,  he  naturally  goes  to  the  opposite  ex- 
treme, and  finds  himself  without  God,  and  without  hope 
of  a  world  to  come.  But  the  well-balanced  mind  will 
search  earnestly  for  the  truth  until  he  finds  it.  Even  the 
difficulties  he  may  encounter  in  such  search  will  not  cause 
him  to  desist,  for  well  he  knows  that  no  great  prize  is 
ever  obtained  unless  ardently  contended  for.  But  when 
he  finds  the  object  of  his  search,  his  joy  is  great:  religion 
is  no  longer  the  bane  of  civilization,  but  the  purest 'and 
most  exalted  manifestation  of  God  dwelling  in  man,  sanc- 
tifying his  life,  and  giving  him  hope  in  death — a  religion 


# 


1 6  FOOTPRINTS    OF    A   SOUL. 

consonant  with  reason,  at  one  with  nature,  and  comfort- 
ing to  the  heart.  While  we  hold  that  such  a  faith  is  not 
found  in  the  symbols  of  the  church,  we  do  believe  that  it 
is  unfolded  in  the  pages  of  this  book. 

Calamity,  distress,  want,  fear,  praise,  awe,  and  won- 
der are  the  foundation-stones  of  all  early  religious  tem- 
ples, and  the  chief  impulses  to  all  primitive  devotional 
acts.  Nor  have  these  forces  lost  their  sway  to-day,  for 
over  minds  of  low  degree  they  always  have  control.  But 
as  one  advances  in  the  scale  of  civilization,  becomes  ac- 
quainted with  the  laws  of  nature  and  his  own  being,  he 
becomes  more  and  more  free  from  the  tyranny  of  fear, 
yielding  to  the  voice  of  reason  only,  or  to  the  sweet  com- 
mands of  love  and  duty.  The  noble  soul  can  never  re- 
ceive nor  offer  services  given  for  the  sake  of  reward,  or 
with  the  hope  of  escaping  punishment;  but  such  a  man 
yields  his  whole  being  to  the  drawings  of  love  or  to  the 
sense  of  conscious  duty.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that 
among  all  religious  motives  these  two  are  incomparably 
the  highest  and  noblest;  and  being  highest  and  best,  the 
soul  that  yields  to  them  is  doubly  blest:  he  is  happy  in 
the  service  he  renders,  and  the  service  itself  ennobles  his 
being.  To  get  the  noble  man's  service,  therefore,  he 
must  be  reasonably  appealed  to  on  the  ground  of  duty  or 
love,  and  not  on  those  of  fear  or  favor.  The  fact  that  the 
average  appeal  of  the  Christian  pulpit  is  not  made  on  the 
grounds  of  duty  or  love,  shows  in  general  the  quality  of 
the  minds  to  whom  the  appeal  is  made,  and  the  vicious 
character  of  the  creed  on  which  the  appeal  is  founded. 

As  appeals  founded  on  threats,  or  fear  of  punishment, 
must  fail  to  move  the  noble  soul,  so  equally  ineffective  are 
all  appeals  made  on  irrational  grounds.  What  is  contrary 
to  reason  the  noble-minded  can  not,  will  not,  believe;  and 
what  is  founded  on  threats,  he  must  instantly  spurn. 
Can  we  wonder,  then,   why  the  brightest  intellects  and 


4 


THE    FOUNDATION   AND    LIMITS    OF   DOGMA.  17 


purest  minds  have  not  been,  and  are  not,  found  in  the 
church.  How  can  such  souls  yield  their  assent  to  the 
great  creeds  of  Christendom!  They  do  not;  they  can  not. 
The  two  great  creeds  of  Christendom  are  the  Nicene 
and  the  Apostles' ,  while  a  third  form  of  faith  is  known 
as  the  Athanasian.  As  these  forms  of  faith  are  the 
foundations  of  orthodoxy,  we  will  here  give  them  for  the 
benefit  of  our  readers: 

THE   NICENE  CREED. 

I  believe  in  one  God  the  Father  Almighty,  Maker  of  heaven  and 
earth,  and  of  all  things  visible  and  invisible:  and  in  one  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  the  only-begotten  Son  of  God,  begotten  of  his  Father 
before  all  worlds,  God  of  God,  Light  of  Light,  very  God  of  very 
God,  begotten,  not  made,  being  of  one  substance  with  the  Father; 
by  whom  all  things  were  made,  who  for  us  men,  and  for  our  sal- 
vation, came  down  from  heaven,  and  was  incarnate  by  the  Holy 
Ghost  of  the  Virg'n  Mary,  and  was  made  man,  and  was  crucified 
also  for  us  under  Pontius  Pilate.  He  suffered  and  was  buried,  and 
the  third  day  he  rose  again  according  to  the  Scriptures,  and  as- 
cended into  heaven,  and  sitteth  on  the  right  hand  of  the  Father. 
And  he  shall  come  again  with  glory  to  judge  both  the  quick  and 
the  dead. 

And  I  believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Lord  and  Giver  of  life, 
who  proceedeth  from  the  Father  and  the  Son,  who  with  the  Father 
and  the  Son  together  is  worshipped  and  glorified,  who  spoke  by 
the  prophets.  And  I  believe  one  Catholic  and  Apostolic  Church. 
1  acknowledge  one  baptism  for  the  remission  of  sins,  and  I  look 
for  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  the  life  of  the  world  to  come. 

THE  APOSTLES'  CREED. 
I  believe  in  God  the  Father  Almighty,  Maker  of  heaven  and 
earth :  and  in  Jesus  Christ  his  only  Son  our  Lord,  who  was  con- 
ceived by  the  Holy  Ghost,  born  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  suffered  under 
Pontius  Pilate,  was  crucified,  dead,  and  buried;  he  descended  into 
hell;  the  third  day  he  rose  again  from  the  dead,  he  ascended  into 
heaven,  and  sitteth  on  the  right  hand  of  God  the  Father  Almighty; 
from  thence  he  shall  come  to  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead.  I 
believe  in  the  Holy  Ghost;  the  Holy  Catholic  Church;  the  com- 
munion of  saints;  the  forgiveness  of  sins;  the  resurrection  of  the 
body;  and  the  life  everlasting. 


1 8  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL. 

THE  ATHANASIAN  CREED. 

Whosoever  will  be  saved,  before  all  things  it  is  necessary  that 
he  hold  the  Catholic  faith,  which  faith  except  every  one  do  keep 
whole  and  undefiled,  without  doubt  he  shall  perish  everlastingly. 
And  the  Catholic  faith  is  this:  That  we  worship  one  God  in  Trin- 
ity, and  Trinity  in  Unity;  neither  confounding  the  Persons  nor 
dividing  the  Substance.  For  there  is  one  Person  of  the  Father, 
another  of  the  Son,  and  another  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  But  the  God- 
head of  the  Father,  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost  is  all  one, 
the  glory  equal,  the  majesty  co-eternal  Such  as  the  Father  is, 
such  is  the  Son,  and  such  is  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  Father  uncreate, 
the  Son  uncreate,  and  the  Holy  Ghost  uncreate.  The  Father  in- 
comprehensible, the  Son  incomprehensible,  and  the  Holy  Ghost 
incomprehensible.  The  Father  eternal,  the  Son  eternal,  and  the 
Holy  Ghost  eternal.  And  yet  there  are  not  three  eternals,  but  one 
eternal.  As  also  there  are  not  three  incomprehensibles,  nor  three 
uncreated;  but  one  uncreated,  and  one  incomprehensible.  So 
likewise  the  Father  is  Almighty,  the  Son  Almighty,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost  Almighty;  and  yet  there  are  not  three  Almighties,  but  one 
Almighty.  So  the  Father  is  God,  the  Son  is  God,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost  is  God;  and  yet  there  are  not  three  Gods,  but  one  God.  So 
likewise  the  Father  is  Lord,  the  Son  Lord,  and  the  Holy  Ghost 
Lord;  and  yet  not  three  Lords,  but  one  Lord.  For  like  as  we  are 
compelled  by  the  Christian  verity  to  acknowledge  every  Person  by 
himself  to  be  God  and  Lord;  so  are  we  forbidden  by  the  Catholic 
religion  to  say  there  are  three  Gods  or  three  Lords.  The  Father  is 
made  of  none,  neither  created  nor  begotten;  the  Son  is  of  the 
Father  alone,  not  made  nor  created,  but  begotten;  the  Holy  Ghost 
is  of  the  Father  and  of  the  Son,  neither  made  nor  created  nor  be- 
gotten, but  proceeding.  So  there  is  one  Father,  not  three  Fathers; 
one  Son,  not  three  Sons;  one  Holy  Ghost,  not  three  Holy  Ghosts. 
And  in  this  Trinity  none  is  afore  or  after  other;  none  is  greater  or 
less  than  another.  But  the  whole  three  Persons  are  co-eternal  to- 
gether, and  co-equal;  so  that  in  all  things,  as  is  aforesaid,  the 
Unity  in  Trinity,  and  the  Trinity  in  Unity  is  to  be  worshipped.  He, 
therefore,  that  will  be  saved,  must  thus  think  of  the  Trinity.  Fur- 
thermore it  is  necessary  to  everlasting  salvation  that  he  also  be- 
lieve rightly  the  incarnation  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  For  the 
right  faith  is  that  we  believe  and  confess  that  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  is  God  and  Man;  God,  of  the  substance  of 
the  Father,  begotten  before  the  worlds;  and  Man,  of  the  substance 
of  his  mother,  born  in  the  world;  perfect  God  and  perfect  Man,  of 


THE    FOUNDATION    AND    LIMITS    OF   DOGMA.  1 9 

a  reasonable  soul  and  human  flesh  subsisting;  equal  to  the  Father 
as  touching  his  Godhead,  and  inferior  to  the  Father  as  touching 
his  manhood;  who  although  he  is  God  and  Man,  yet  he  is  not  two 
but  one  Christ;  one,  not  by  the  conversion  of  the  Godhead  into  flesh, 
but  by  taking  of  the  manhood  into  God;  one  altogether,  not  by 
confusion  of  substance  but  by  unity  of  Persons.  For  as  the  rea- 
sonable soul  and  flesh  is  one  man,  so  God  and  Man  is  one  Christ; 
who  suffered  for  our  salvation;  descended  into  hell,  rose  again  the 
third  day  from  the  dead;  he  ascended  into  heaven,  he  sitteth  on 
the  right  hand  of  the  Father,  God  Almighty;  from  whence  he 
shall  come  to  judge  the  quick  and  the  dead.  At  whose  coming  all 
men  shall  rise  again  with  their  bodies,  and  shall  give  account  for 
their  own  works;  and  they  that  have  done  good  shall  go  into  ever- 
lasting life,  and  they  that  have  done  evil  into  everlasting  fire. 
This  is  the  Catholic  faith,  which  except  a  man  believe  faithfully 
he  can  not  be  saved. 

The  reader  will  find  a  sufficient  discussion  of  the  Ni- 
cene  Creed  in  chapter  XXXVIII  of  this  work.  The  Apos- 
tles' Creed,  exactly  in  its  present  form,  is  found  for  the 
first  time  in  the  writings  of  Pirminius,  who  is  supposed 
to  have  lived  in  France,  although  he  died  about  758  in 
Germany.  The  substance,  however,  of  this  Creed  is  very 
clearly  given  by  Rufinus,  a  priest  of  Aquileia,  who  died 
in  Sicily  in  410.  But  although  the  substance  of  this 
Creed  occurs  for  the  first  time  in  the  writings  of  Rufinus, 
it  must  not  be  supposed  that  he  therefore  believed  in  it, 
for  he  was  bitterly  attacked  by  Jerome  for  supporting  the 
heretical  tenets  of  Origen.  The  so  called  Athanasian 
Creed  is  not  the  work  of  Athanasius,  but  is  supposed  to 
set  forth  the  faith  believed  by  him.  There  is  much  un- 
certainty about  its  date  and  authorship;  but  it  is  believed 
to  have  originated  in  France,  somewhere  during  the  fifth 
century.  In  written  form  it  is  found  for  the  first  time  in 
570;  at  which  time  Venantius  Fortunatus,  just  before  he 
became  bishop  of  Poictiers,  wrote  a  commentary  on  it.  In 
the  ancient  English  Church  it  was  recited  daily;  in  the 
modern  English  Church  it  is  recited  thirteen  times  a  year, 


20  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A    SOUL. 

and  in  the  Roman  Church  once  a  week.  Waterland  re- 
gards this  creed  as  the  work  of  Hilary  of  Aries;  but  not- 
withstanding the  existing  uncertainty  attending  its  origin 
and  authorship,  it  can  not  be  doubted  that  in  regard  to 
the  matters  it  sets  forth,  it  fully  and  exactly  embodies  the 
Catholic  faith,  or  that  its  definitions  can  be  proved  by 
"most  certain  warrant  of  Holy  Scriptures."  Almost 
every  phrase  of  it  can  be  found  in  the  writings  of  St.  Au- 
gustine; and  the  whole  Western  Church  has  accepted  it 
for  more  than  a  thousand  years,  and  does  accept  it  to-day, 
as  a  most  lucid,  logical,  and  exact  statement.  Nor  do 
we  believe  that  any  fair-minded  person,  competent  to 
judge,  can  doubt  that  the  Christian  Church  has  come  to 
this  conclusion  as  a  logical  result  of  accepting  the  Chris- 
tian Scriptures  as  inspired  writings.  In  the  words  of  a 
prominent  teacher:  "Just  as  Bacon,  Kepler,  Descartes, 
Leibnitz,  Newton,  had  before  them  facts  of  nature,  classi- 
fied those  facts,  induced  upon  them  certain  general  ideas, 
which  seemed  to  explain  them,  and  so  by  a  process  of 
careful  verification  arrived  at  the  laws  of  nature — even  so 
Athanasius,  the  two  Gregories,  Jerome,  Augustine,  and 
the  other  great  theologians  of  the  fourth  and  fifth  cen- 
turies, had  before  them  the  facts  of  Revelation,  carefully 
compared  those  facts,  induced  upon  them  certain  general 
ideas  which  seemed  to  harmonize  them,  and  so  by  a  not 
less  strictly  inductive  process  arrived  at  the  doctrines  of 
theology;  and  these  doctrines  of  theology  which  find  ex- 
pression in  the  Athanasian  Creed,  for  instance,  have  been 
continually  verified  by  succeeding  ages,  and  have  been 
found  to  explain  the  facts  of  Revelation  so  perfectly  and 
satisfactorily,  that  they  have  come  to  be  accepted  by  the 
whole  Church  with  a  confidence  as  justifiable  as  that  with 
which  astronomers  accept  the  principles  of  Newton." 
(Norris:  On  the  Prayer  Book). 


THE    FOUNDATION    AND    LIMITS    OF    DOGMA.  21 

That  the  theologians  referred  to  in  this  excerpt  were 
just  as  rigidly  logical  in  their  inductions  from  the  princi- 
ples of  Scriptures,  as  were  Newton  and  others  in  theif 
inductions  from  the  facts  of  nature,  we  do  not  in  the  least 
doubt;  but  the  absurd  and  repulsive  doctrines  of  the 
Christian  Church  are  not  the  result  of  vicious  reasoning. 
A  carpenter  may  use  the  best  of  skill  in  putting  together 
the  framework  of  a  dwelling,  but  if  the  timbers  be  rotten, 
of  what  use  is  his  skill?  So  with  the  theologians  referred 
to:  their  logic  is  rigid  enough,  but  the  substance  they  use 
in  their  logical  process,  is  not  only  not  divine  revelation, 
but  the  outgrowth  of  priestcraft  and  ignorance  for  thou- 
sands of  years.  The  trouble,  therefore,  is  not  with  the 
logic  of  the  theologian,  but  is  one  much  more  radical 
than  this.  Whereas  the  premises  of  the  scientist  are  based 
on  the  facts  of  nature,  those  of  the  theologian  are  based 
largely  on  superstition,  mere  assumption,  ignorance,  or 
the  false  notions  of  good  men.  The  Creeds,  with  all 
their  nature-contradicting  assertions,  are  undoubtedly 
true  photographs  of  the  Scriptures.  Should  any  person 
be  inclined  to  doubt  this  assertion,  let  him  take  his  Bible, 
and  carefully  examine  the  following  references.  While 
they  are  but  few  compared  to  the  vast  number  which 
might  be  adduced,  we  doubt  not  that  they  are  in  them- 
selves sufficient  to  establish  every  clause  of  the  Athanasian 
Creed,  the  most  lengthy  symbol  of  orthodoxy:  Isaiah 
vii.  14;  Math.  i.  18-25;  xi.  27;  xii.  31,  32;  xxvii.  35; 
xxviii.  5,  6;  Mark  xvi.  15,  16;  Luke  i.  35;  John  i.  1,3, 
10;  v.  22-29;  xiv-  26;  xv.  26;  xvi.  28;  xvii.  5,  24;  Acts  i. 
22;  ii.  24,  31;  xiii.  37;  Romans  xi.  34;  xiv.  10;  II  Cor.  v. 
10;  I  Eph.  iv.  8,  9;  Phil.  ii.  6;  Col.  i.  15-17;  I  Tim.  i. 
16,  17;  iii.  16;  Tit.  i.  3.  ii.  10;  iii.  4;  Heb.  ii.  14,  15; 
I  Pet.  i.  3;  iii.  19-21;  I  John  iv.  9;  v.  7,  20;  Jude  4,  25. 

For  many  long  years  we  repeated  the    Creeds,   fully 
believing  that  they  are  truly  expressive  of  the  contents  of 


y 


2  2  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A    SOUL. 

the  book  upon  which  the  Christian  Church  is  founded; 
nor  is  our  faith  in  these  symbols,  as  exponential  of  the 
Bible,  any  less  strong  at  this  time  than  in  those  days  when 
we  stood  a  priest  performing  the  functions  imposed  upon 
us.  A  more  perfect  epitome  of  Scriptural  teaching  than 
these  three  great  Symbols  of  orthodoxy  can  not  be  pro- 
duced nor  imagined;  and  if  a  person  would  know  the 
teachings  of  the  Bible,  we  would  certainly  advise  him  to 
study  the  great  Creeds  of  Christendom.  If  we  refuse  our 
assent  to  these  Creeds,  it  is  not  because  we  question  their 
accuracy  as  logical  deductions,  or  as  exponential  of  the 
Bible;  but  rather  because  we  are  unable  in  many  cases  to 
receive  as  truth  the  statements  which  form  their  prem- 
ises. L,et  any  person  of  average  intellect,  and  fairly  well 
acquainted  with  scientific  facts,  examine  the  following 
passages,  and  ask  himself  what  conclusion  he  must  come 
to:  Gen.  ii.  21,  22;  iii.  8;  vi.  1-7;  Ex.  iv.  24;  vii.  3; 
xiv.  17;  xxxii.  14;  Deut.  xx.  13-17;  xxiii.  1,  2,  13,  20; 
xxxii.  41,  42;  Judges  i.  19;  I  Sam.  xv.  32,  33,  35;  II 
Kings  xx.  1,  5;  I  Chron.  xxvi.  27;  II  Chron.  xviii.  20, 
21;  Ezek.  xiv.  9;  Rom.  ix.  18-23.  Surely,  not  a  few 
theological  deductions  are  founded  on  premises  which  are 
but  vain  creations  of  minds  ignorant  or  superstitious  or 
interested  in  forcing  them  on  a  credulous  world.  The 
scholar  is  willing  to  admit  that  the  Church  has  no  less  a 
right,  and  that  it  may  be  no  less  expedient  and  proper  for 
it,  to  declare  a  dogma  than  the  philosopher  a  general  law 
of  nature;  but  neither  the  Church  nor  the  philosopher  has 
a  right  to  violate  the  laws  of  the  cosmos,  nor  transgress 
the  bounds  of  reason. 


CHAPTER   II. 

HEREDITY    AND    ENVIRONMENT. 

(M6p6ina  8>  ovri  q>vyliv    Qs'uiS    ov    6ocpia    tii  anooderai 

\xX\d  fxdrav  6  npoSv/noi  dsi  itovov  ec,ei) — 

Everyone's  fate  is  decreed,  nor  can  one  by  wisdom  ward  it  off; 
who  tries  to  do  so,  will  always  only  increase  his  pains. 

(Enrij).:  Eeraclidae,  614.) 

Among  the  many  difficult  problems  which  present 
themselves  to  the  thoughtful  soul,  it  can  not  be  denied 
that  there  are  some  concerning  which  different  minds  will 
arrive  at  different  conclusions, — in  other  words,  concern- 
ing the  correct  solution  of  which  man  is  in  great  uncer- 
tainty, and  perhaps  always  will  be;  but  in  answering  the 
question  whether  or  not  man  to  a  large  extent,  is  physi- 
cally, mentally,  and  morally  a  necessary  product  of  hered- 
itary factors,  we  do  not  think  there  is  any  lack  of  unan- 
imity. "Heredity,"  says  the  famous  Weismann,  "depends 
upon  the  germ-plasma.  The  minute  molecular  structure 
of  the  germ-plasma  causes  the  egg-cell  to  develop  into 
a  duck  or  into  a  swan;  it  also  causes  the  egg  to  develop 
into  a  Negro  or  into  a  European,  into  a  Mr.  Smith  or  into 
a  Mr.  Jones;  in  short,  all  qualities  of  the  developed  indi- 
vidual depend  upon  the  constitution  of  the  germ-plasma. ' ' 
Much  less  remote  factors  of  descent  are  the  mental  and 
physical  states  of  the  parents  at  the  time  of  conception, 
and  of  the  mother  during  gestation.  How  fortunate  the 
child  whose  qualities  have  been  well  beaten  out  in  the 
forges  of  descent !  how  lamentable  the  wretched  babe 
truly  damned  while  yet  its  being  was  a  cell,  and  before 
the  spirit  of  nature  had  moved  upon  the  chaos  of  its 
existence  ! 

Henry  Merton's  deeply  religious  nature  was  a  quality 
derived  more  especially  from  his  father,  who  had  been 
a  most  religious  man,  most  affectionate,  wholly  unselfish, 
most  assiduous  in  looking  to  the  welfare  of  his  children, 
always  imparting  such  instructions  as  he  could,  and  never 

23 


24  FOOTPRINTS    OF    A   SOUL. 

ceasing  to  point  them  to  God.  He  seemed  to  have  been 
such  a  soul  as  the  Divine  Spirit  must  delight  to  dwell 
in.  Henry  was  but  little  more  than  seventeen  when  he 
was  bereft  of  this  tender  parent  by  death.  Thenceforth, 
the  word  "father"  had  a  different  meaning  to  him:  it 
brought  thoughts  of  the  grave,  and  sighs  for  the  times 
that  would  come  no  more  forever.  It  also  took  from  him 
all  hope  of  parental  assistance  in  obtaining  the  education 
he  sought,  as  well  as  his  chief  source  of  advice  and  en- 
couragement. Thus  so  early  left  to  his  own  resources, 
it  would  not  have  been  possible  for  Merton  to  have 
achieved -what  he  did  were  it  not  for  the  devotion  of  his 
youngest  brother,  and  the  large  heartedness  of  a  most 
benevolent  gentleman  who  had  become  deeply  attached 
to  Merton  in  their  church  relations.  In  less  than  a  year, 
however,  this  noble  soul  passed  away,  leaving  Merton  to 
himself  and  to  his  youngest  brother. 

The  expense  of  Merton' s  early  student-life  at  the  uni- 
versity was  somewhat  lessened,  from  the  fact  that  he  was 
preparing  for  the  ministry;  for  all  ministerial  students 
had  dormitories,  in  the  institution,  free  of  rent.  Such 
rooms  were  also  larger,  better  situated,  and  more  health- 
ful than  those,  as  a  rule,  obtained  at  private  houses. 
Whether  productive  of  good  or  evil,  the  young  man  pre- 
paring for  the  ministry  is  the  recipient  of  very  many 
favors.  It  is  largely  this  fact,  in  all  probability,  that 
leads  so  many  young  men,  weak  in  character,  and  of 
small  ability,  to  choose  the  ministry  as  their  profession 
in  life.  The  many  favors  offered  by  the  churches  and 
educational  institutions  to  young  men  preparing  for  the 
ministry,  have  undoubtedly  great  effect  in  filling  the 
ranks  of  that  profession  with  recruits;  on  the  other  hand, 
it  is  doubtful  if  young  men,  of  great  and  noble  parts, 
are   likely   thus   to    be   attracted.       And   if   they   were 


MENTAL   CULTURE.  25 

attracted,  there  is  generally  no  call  for  them;  the  crowds 
of  less  worthy  applicants  having  already  more  than  sup- 
plied the  demand. 

Among  the  very  many  assisted  as  we  have  said,  there 
were  some,  as  Merton  knew,  who  were  truly  worthy  in 
every  respect;  but  the  society  of  the  average  ministerial 
student,  he  soon  found,  was  in  no  wise  calculated  either 
to  make  him  purer  in  heart,  or  more  polished  in  mind. 
Ignoble  in  conduct,  and  indolent  in  studies,  many  of 
the  biblical  students  appeared  to  Merton  more  fitted  to 
carry  the  hod  than  to  build  the  temple.  He  also  saw 
that  the  very  worst  characters  among  them  were  frequently 
the  most  demonstrative  in  prayer  and  profession. 

At  five  o'clock  on  Sunday  mornings,  it  was  the  custom 
for  these  students,  aroused  by  some  of  the  more  active 
ones,  to  assemble  for  prayers.  Great  excitement  would 
then  prevail;  much  renewal  of  vows;  great  profession  of 
faith  and  trust.  At  such  times  a  student  felt  ashamed  if 
he  could  not  weep  as  much,  and  pray  as  loudly,  as  any 
other  brother.  Thus  those  of  excitable  temperament 
would  shout,  and  sing,  and  pray,  until  they  bordered  on 
the  very  verge  of  frenzy. 

Merton  himself  was  of  a  very  nervous  temperament, 
and  religious  disposition;  and  it  was  not  to  be  expected 
that  a  person  of  such  nature  could  be  long  exposed  to 
such  and  similar  forces,  without  being  greatly  affected. 
Thus  it  was  that  Merton,  who  had  never  known  a  day 
without  praying  to  God,  nor  without  having  faith  in  him, 
was  greatly  influenced  by  those  who  made  the  profession 
of  sauctification;  and  in  due  time  he  made  such  profession 
himself,  and  continued  in  it  for  several  years.  Still  he 
had  every  evidence  for  believing  that  it  was  not  among 
those  who  made  the  greatest  professions,  that  the  purest 
characters  were  found;  nor  among  those  who  professed  to 


26  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

be  nearest  to  Jesus,  was  the  young  man  found  who  lived 
most  like  Christ.  In  illustration  of  this,  we  will  give  the 
following  from  his  own  journal: 

"Last  night  I  was  awakened  out  of  sleep  by  the  most 
melodious  strains  of  music  nearly  under  my  window.  I 
listened  in  rapt  delight  for  a  time,  when  I  heard  the  splash- 
ing of  water,  and  a  female  voice  saying:  'Goodness, 
gracious!  That's  my  new  dress.'  The  singing  ceased,  and 
the  singers  departed  thinking  they  had  been  poorly  paid 
for  their  intended  kindness. 

"In  the  morning  there  was  a  very  bad  feeling  manifested 
among  the  boys  at  the  occurrence,  and  a  determination 
expressed  to  discover  the  student  who  had  poured,  from 
one  of  the  dormitory  windows,  a  bucket  of  dirty  water 
upon  the  heedless  heads  of  the  unhappy  serenaders.  None 
appeared  so  much  offended  as  a  young  man  who  "was  the 
son  of  a  minister,  and  who  professed  sanctification.  In 
giving  his  experience,  he  used  to  say  that  he  wished  to 
leave  this  wicked  world  to  go  and  live  with  Jesus.  In  the 
course  of  a  day  or  two,  he  was  found  to  be  the  guilty 
party.  He  paid  the  young  lady  for  a  new  dress;  but  the 
dirt}'  act  added  to  the  feeling  already  prevailing  against 
the  theological  students  or  the  "bibs"  as  they  were 
called." 

At  this  time  Merton  was  not  without  religious  doubts 
and  fears;  but  when  thus  troubled,  he  would  fall  on  his 
knees  in  prayer,  and  there  remain  until  such  doubts  and 
fears  had  passed  away.  The  following  extract,  from  his 
journal  of  this  date,  shows  clearly  enough  the  depth  and 
earnestness  of  his  religious  life:  "Glory  be  to  thy  name, 
dear  Savior,  for  having  taken  me  to  be  one  of  Thy  sheep. 
O  Lamb  of  God!  may  I  never  perish;  but  rule  Thou  in  my 
soul  every  motive,  every. desire,  and  every  action." 

Nor  was  he  less  diligent  in  studies  than  devotional  in 


MENTAL    CULTURE.  27 

life.  He  sought  to  excel  in  whatever  he  undertook;  and 
his  superior  ability  and  scholarship  were  readily  acknow- 
ledged. The  following  instance  may  be  given  in  proof  of 
this.  They  were  reading  Antigone,  a  Greek  play  of 
Sophocles;  and  it  was  the  professor's  custom  to  translate 
for  the  class  to-day  what  he  would  assign  them  as  a  lesson 
to-morrow.  Merton  protested  against  this  custom,  holding 
that  it  was  ruinous  for  the  professor  thus  to  do  the  scholar's 
work.  One  morning  at  the  recitation  the  professor 
hesitated  in  his  translation,  and  finally  told  the  class  that, 
the  passage  being  very  obscure,  he  would  excuse  them  for 
the  day.  In  an  instant  Merton  thoughtlessly  replied: 
"Why  professor?  I  am  sure  the  passage  is  easy  enough." 
With  one  voice  the  class  cried  out:  "Read  it,  Merton.  Get 
up,  and  read  it. ' '  The  professor  blushed,  but  said  nothing. 
Merton  felt  deeply  the  impropriety  of  his  conduct,  and 
longed  to  apologize,  which  he  determined  to  do  on  the 
following  da}-;  but  the  next  day  the  professor  did  not 
make  his  appearance;  and  Merton  always  thought  that  it 
was  because  of  his  deep  mortification.  On  the  second 
morning  after  the  occurrence  of  the  unpleasantness,  as  soon 
as  he  had  opportunity,  Merton  arose  in  his  seat,  and 
apologized;  for  well  he  knew  that  although  what  he  had 
said  was  true  enough,  his  actions,  as  a  student,  were 
nevertheless  very  improper.  The  professor  replied:  "I 
recognized  the  impropriety  of  your  conduct,  Mr.  Merton; 
but  I  willingly  receive  your  apology.  I  also  hope  that  in 
the  future  you  will  be  as  well  prepared  in  your  studies,  as 
you  have  been  in  the  past. ' ' 

The  daily  life  of  many  of  the  ' '  bibs  ' '  was  a  great  sur- 
prise to  Merton,  who  had  hoped  to  find  in  them  examples 
of  pure  and  holy  living;  but  with  their  character,  as  a  class, 
no  person  could  be  very  favorably  impressed.  Among 
them  there  were   not   a   few  whose   very  exterior  would 


28  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A  SOUL. 

condemn  them  anywhere,  as  worthless;  and,  taken  as  a 
body,  they  certainly  did  not  appear  to  possess  anything 
that  should  elevate  them  in  the  eyes  of  the  world,  or  make 
them  "chosen  vessels,"  as  they  professed  to  be.  Some  of 
them  whose  worthlessness  could  not  be  easily  covered, 
sought  to  turn  it  to  their  own  advantage,  by  saying  that 
God  chose  the  weaker  things  of  this  world  to  confound 
the  mighty. 

It  was  the  habit  of  the  Greek  professor  to  pray  with 
his  eyes  wide  open,  whenever  he  led  the  devotional  exer- 
cises in  the  chapel  of  the  university.  It  was  thought  he 
had  a  good  and  sufficient  reason  for  keeping  his  eyes  open 
at  such  times;  as  Merton  was  told  that  at  one  time,  when 
praying  with  his  eyes  closed,  the  professor's  head  had  come 
into  collision  with  an  old  shoe  which  had  been  thrown 
with  unerring  aim  by  one  of  the  mischievous  boys.  This 
professor  was  not  a  favorite  in  the  school;  just  why,  Mer- 
ton never  learned. 

Merton  was  quite  a  regular  attendant  at  the  meetings 
for  holiness,  held  at  the  residence  of  a  Mrs.  Horton.  Some 
very  striking  experiences  were  there  related.  At  one  of 
these  meetings  a  Miss  Mitchell  said:  "  I  see  God  face  to 
face  every  day.  He  talks  to  me,  and  I  talk  to  Him;  and 
our  conversation  is  full  of  heavenly  things."  Merton  felt 
he  saw  an  explanation  of  such  experiences.  The  university 
was  a  great  place  for  matrimonial  alliances;  and  as  there 
were  many  young  men,  either  already  preachers  or  soon  to 
be,  attending  these  meetings  for  holiness,  it  was,  he 
thought,  natural  that  young  ladies  should  seek  to  attract 
their  attention,  and  win  their  esteem.  Nor  is  it  to  be 
doubted  that  such  public  profession  of  superior  holiness, 
would  appear  a  great  attraction  to  those  who  were  to  be 
"  watchmen  in  Zion." 

In  the  month  of  April,  Mrs.  Maggie  Varley,  the  great 


MENTAL   CULTURE.  2Q 

revivalist,  visited  the  university  town.  She  labored  hard 
to  convert  the  young  men;  but  the  only  effect  of  her  work, 
as  far  as  Merton  could  sec,  was  the  conversion,  or  fright- 
ening, of  a  few  young  girls.  She  had  a  good  eye  to  busi- 
ness; for  she  sold  her  photographs  to  the  "brethren." 
Being  a  very  handsome  woman,  she  found  a  ready  market 
for  them.         *    . 

It  is  probable  that  Merton' s  philosophical  tendency 
was  derived  from  his  mother.  On  her  father's  side  she 
was  of  Hindu  descent,  her  grandfather  having  been  a 
wealthy  Bengalese  who,  having  come  to  England  and  been 
educated  there,  determined  to  remain  in  that  country, 
and  finally  married  a  daughter  of  a  Mr.  Eddy,  a  clergy- 
man of  the  Church  of  England. 

The  revival  spoken  of  weakened  Merton 's  faith  in  the 
sincerity  of  revivalists.  Even  in  those  days  he  began  to 
suspect  what  he  afterwards  certainly  knew,  that  to  know 
them  as  they  appear  to  be,  is  not  to  know  them  as  they 
really  are.  How  far  reaching  in  its  effects  may  a  very 
small  occurrence  be  !  How  unforeseen  the  forces  and 
circumstances  that  produce  man's  character  !  It  would 
seem  that  Huxley  speaks  not  without  reason  when  he 
says:  In  man  as  in  brutes  there  is  no  proof  that  any  state 
of  consciousness  is  the  cause  of  change  in  the  motion  of 
the  matter  of  the  organism.  If  this  position  is  well  based 
it  follows  that  our  mental  conditions  are  simply  the  sym- 
bols in  consciousness  of  the  changes  which  take  place 
automatically  in  the  organism;  and  that  the  feeling  we 
call  volition  is  not  the  cause  of  a  voluntary  act,  but  the 
symbol  of  that  state  of  the  brain  which  is  the  immediate 
cause  of  the  act. 

{Collected  Essays,    Vol.  I,  Essay  v.) 


CHAPTER  III. 


FRUITS   OF   STUDY. 


Profecto  eos  ipsos  qui  se  aliquid  certi  habere  arbitrantur.  addu- 
bitare  coget  doctissimorum  hominum  de  maxuma  re  tanta  dis- 
sensio. —  So  great  a  disagreement  among  the  most  learned  con- 
cerning this,  the  most  important  of  all  questions,  forces  us  to  doubt 
the  certainty  of  their  information.     {Cicero:  De  Nat.  Dcor.  I.  i.  \ 

The  great  business  of  a  man  is  to  improve  his  mind.  As  for 
all  other  things,  they  are  no  better  than  lifeless  ashes  and  smoke. 

(Marcus  Aurelius.) 

Several  of  the  young  men  at  the  university  were 
known  as  "Conference  Students."  Such  had  been 
preaching  for  some  years,  but  were  now  seeking  a  better 
education  chiefly  at  the  expense  of  their  conferences. 
From  the  fact  of  having  had  experience  in  the  ministry, 
their  companionship  was  much  sought  by  new  matricu- 
lants at  the  schools;  but  one's  esteem  for  them  generally 
lessened  as  his  acquaintance  with  them  increased. 

During  the  senior  year  Merton's  room-mate  was  a 
young  gentleman  from  Allentown.  He  had  come  to  the 
school  to  prepare  for  the  ministry.  He  was  a  most  consci- 
entious young  man,  and  very  sincere  in  his  Christian 
life.  In  attending  this  school  he  had  expected  to  find 
better  means  of  obtaining  purity  of  heart,  and  sound 
knowledge  than  he  could  find  at  home;  but  his  treatment 
by  the  "brethren,"  and  their  conduct  in  general,  soon 
dissipated  his  hopes.  "  Here,"  he  said,  "  I  felt  sure  I 
could  know  more  of  the  height,  and  depth,  and  breadth 
of  the  love  of  God  in  Christ;  but  after  a  stay  of  about 
six  months  I  find  if  I  stayed  much  longer,  Mr.  Merton, 
I  should  be  a  first-class  infidel.  The  actions  of  the 
brethren  have  been  so  disgraceful,  that  I  have  lost 
most  of  the  honest  faith  I  brought  here  with  me.     God 

30 


FRUITS   OF   .STUDY.  3 1 

help  me  to  get  home  safe,  and  I'll  promise  not  to  come  to 
this  place  again  in  a  hurry,  with  the  hope  of  receiving 
good  from  the  society  of  young  preachers!  Look  at  what 
the  Rev.  Richter  did  to  me!  While  I  live  I  shall  never 
forget  the  insulting  act.  For  more  than  an  hour  I  marched 
around  in  that  cattle-show,  carrying  the  tag  which  he  had 
pinned  to  my  back,  and  on  which  was  written,  'This  bull 
for  sale;'  and  I  should  have  continued  walking  with  that 
insult  there,  were  it  not  for  that  strange  gentleman  who 
asked  me  why  I  bore  such  a  card.  I  was  horrified  at  the 
discovery,  and  ashamed  to  be  seen  any  longer  among  the 
people;  and  all  this  shame  and  mortification  came  to  me 
from  the  hands  of  a  minister  of  the  Gospel.  I  have  had 
enough  of  young  preachers.  By  the  help  of  God  I  will  look 
for  better  society." 

Merton's  studies  were  bringing  forth  their  fruit  in  him; 
but  that  fruit  was  the  fruit  of  knowledge,  of  which  if  the 
student  eats,  his  eyes  will  begin  to  open,  his  faith  in  dog- 
mas to  waver,  his  doubts  to  increase;  and  he  will  be  a  sub- 
ject less  and  less  affected  by  the  innoculating  virus  of  su- 
perstition. Such  a  mental  state  is  well  described  in  his 
journal  of  this  date:  "To-day  my  soul  is  sore,  and  my  cry 
is  going  out  to  God:  Hide  not  thyself  for  ever.  O  Lord, 
in  thy  mercy  arise,  and  dispel  the  gloom;  bind  up  Thou 
the  broken-hearted. 

"About  a  week  ago  I  passed  anight  all  in  trouble  and 
darkness.  Sleep  forsook  my  eyelids.  I  lay  on  my  pillow 
from  about  half-past  nine  o'clock  at  night,  till  four  in  the 
morning,  without  slumber.  I  endured  unspeakable  dis- 
tress of  soul;  and  though  I  prayed  continually  that  God 
would  give  me  rest,  my  prayers  seemed  vain.  I  was  in 
black  despair.  Last  night  I  had  ?.  worse  time,  if  possible. 
I  sought  slumber  in  vain  till  midnight,  when  I  came  out, 
and  prayed  to  God  to  remove  the  agony  of  mind  I  was 


32  FOOTPRINTS    OF    A  SOUL. 

suffering.  I  seemed  to  be  afraid  of  disease  and  death,  and 
cried  in  the  bitterness  of  my  soul  that  God  might  show  me 
the  cause.  A  thousand  fears  seemed  to  flit  through  my 
mind;  and  my  prayer  has  been,  and  still  is,  L,ord  be  mer- 
ciful to  me. ' '  We  copy  these  words  because  of  their  deep 
import.  The  state  of  mind  spoken  of  induced  such  physical 
pain,  and  mental  misery  as  made  Merton's  life  for  years 
almost  unbearable.  But  he  might  have  given  us  the  reason 
for  such  a  state.  He  might  have  written  that  it  arose  from 
the  conscious  conflict  of  reason  with  the  superstition  taught 
in  the  name  of  religion;  and  that  its  more  immediate  cause 
had  been  the  reading  of  the  posthumous  essays  of  J.  Stuart 
Mill,  and  other  similar  religio-philosophical  writings.  The 
argument  of  the  great  and  truth-loving  Mill  had  been  too 
much  for  Merton.  The  taste  for  such  writings  once  hav- 
ing been  established,  Merton's  mind  could  find  no  rest 
until  he  had  read  almost  everything  he  could  find,  bear- 
ing on  the  fundamentals  of  Christianity.  Never  was  ground 
held  more  tenaciously ;  never  was  there  a  more  unwilling 
tenant  ousted;  but,  still,  little  by  little  was  Merton  obliged 
to  surrender  much  that  he  had  been  accustomed  to  regard 
as  essentials  of  Christian  faith,  and  necessary  to  eternal 
life.  This  he  had  to  do  as  reason  forced  the  changes  upon 
him.  The  fact  also  that  from  this  date  he  made  much  less 
frequent  entries  in  his  journal,  proves  the  change  which 
was  slowly  but  surely  coming  over  him.  He  began  to  un- 
derstand that  states  of  mind,  or  experience,  may  result 
from  faith  in  things  that  do  not  exist.  A  son  rejoices  in 
the  hourly  expectation  of  meeting  his  mother,  although, 
unknown  to  him,  she  died  yesterday  while  on  her  journey. 
Her  death  did  not  lessen  his  conscious  joy,  although  the 
form  which  he  was  momentarily  expecting  to  gladden  his 
heart,  was  now  cold  in  the  embrace  of  death.  His  joy 
arose,  not  from  the  fact  of  his  mother's  existence,  but  from 


FRUITS    OF    STUDY.  33 

his  faith  in  that  existence, — in  other  words,  from  faith  in 
something  which  he  supposed  had  an  existence,  but  which 
in  reality  had  not.  So  with  the  Christian, — his  ecstasy 
arising  from  belief  in  certain  Christian  teachings,  is  no 
proof  that  such  teachings  have  any  basis  in  reality.  They 
may  be  dead,  as  the  mother,  though  he  rejoices  in  his  be- 
lief that  they  are  alive.  So  great  is  the  faith  of  the  sincere 
Mohammedan  in  Mahomet,  as  the  great  prophet  of  God, 
that  his  mind  frequently  enters  into  a  state  of  ecstasy  or 
even  frenzy;  so  also  is  it  with  the  Christian  who,  in  a  sim- 
ilar manner,  trusts  to  Christ.  Each  declares  that  there  is 
no  other  name  given  whereby  a  man  may  be  saved;  and 
each  refuses  to  admit  that  the  other  can  have  salvation 
through  the  name  in  which  he  trusts.  But  it  makes  no 
difference  to  their  happiness,  for  the  reason,  as  we  have 
seen,  that  a  man  may  be  as  happy  from  hoping  in  a  non- 
existent thing,  as  in  something  so  firmly  established  as  the 
everlasting  hills. 

Man's  religious  principles  are  in  general  the  slowly  de- 
veloped results  of  his  early  influences.  During  childhood 
Merton  had  lived  in  a  deeply  religious  atmosphere;  and, 
in  due  time,  his  imaginative  nature  seemed  in  touch  with 
the  spirit-world.  The  fact  that  that  world  was  unknown 
to  him,  and  the  barriers  separating  the  known  from  the 
unknown,  impassable,  could  not  deter  him,  in  his  waking 
hours,  from  forming  conclusions  concerning  it  and  its  in- 
habitants; nor,  in  his  sleep,  from  mingling  in  their  society. 
Thus  when  about  nine  years  old  Merton  dreamt  one  night 
that  father  and  mother,  with  the  whole  family,  were  seat- 
ed around  the  fire.  The  father  was  telling  stories,  as  was 
his  custom,  when  some  one  was  heard  walking  in  the  cham- 
ber above.  They  were  all  greatly  surprised,  and  conclud- 
ed, of  course,  that  it  was  a  spirit.  In  a  short  time  steps 
were  heard  coming  down  the  long  stairway;  and  in  a  minute 


34  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

more,  they  beheld  a  beautiful  spirit-child  standing  beside 
them.  He  said  he  had  come  from  heaven,  and  that  he 
wished  one  of  them  to  accompany  him.  It  was  agreed  that 
Merton  should  go.  The  beautiful  spirit  walked  before  him 
for  some  time,  when  he  seized,  and  bore  Merton  into  space, 
finally  setting  him  down  amidst  a  dazzling  throng  sur- 
rounding the  throne  of  God,  and  praising  Him  who  sat 
thereon.  Here  Merton  was  permitted  to  remain  for  some 
time,  until  he  was  so  delighted  with  the  many  attractions 
of  the  beautiful  place,  that  he  wished  to  abide  there;  but 
the  spirit  was  commanded  to  take  and  bear  him  away  to 
the  lower  regions,  that  he  might  see  himself  the  torments 
of  the  damned.  In  a  twinkling  they  were  whirling  through 
space,  and  soon  found  themselves  at  the  massive  gates  of 
the  infernal  regions.  The  doors  were  thrown  open,  and 
they  were  admitted.  Here  was  every  conceivable  kind  ol 
torment  which  infinite  power  and  skill  could  contrive. 
Wherever  they  looked  were  devils  yelling,  fires  raging, 
and  the  lost  groaning.  Thousands  of  little  dog-like  fiends 
went  hither  and  thither,  snarling  and  biting;  and  Merton 
thought  their  bite  was  the  bite  of  eternal  death.  Into  the 
wound  they  made,  they  injected  a  poison  which  passed 
through  and  through  the  being  bitten,  vitiating  more  and 
more  his  nature,  and  leaving  him  irretrievably  lost.  Mer- 
ton trembled;  but  the  spirit  said:  "Stay  near  me,  and  they 
can  not  reach  you." 

Having  seen  the  woes  of  the  lost,  burning  in  the  fire 
that  is  never  quenched,  once  more  the  gates  of  hell  flew 
open;  and  Merton  and  the  angel  were  rushing  through 
space.  Again  they  stood  in  the  presence  of  God.  Here 
Merton  wished  to  remain  forever;  but  God  said:  "It  is 
not  yet  time;  take  him  whence  he  came;  let  him  finish  the 
work  I  have  given  him  to  do."  Unwilling  as  Merton  was, 
he  was  taken  by  the  spirit,  and  borne  to  his  father's  house. 


FRUITS   OF   STUDY.  35 

At  another  time  he  dreamt  he  met  the  Devil,  who  chal- 
lenged him  to  wrestle.  At  this  time  Merton  was  about  fif- 
teen years  old,  and  enjoyed  wrestling  very  much,  and  was 
considered  very  expert  at  it.  Merton  accepted  his  chal- 
lenge, and  soon  threw  him  very  heavily.  This  he  repeated 
several  times,  when  the  Devil  said  to  Merton:  "You  are 
a  coward,  nevertheless;  why  don't  you  take  out  those 
things  you  have  in  your  pocket?' '  In  his  dream  Merton 
had  in  his  pocket  a  prayer-book  and  a  Bible;  and  these  he 
was  unwilling  at  first  to  take  out.  Finally  he  said:  "Al- 
though it  is  against  my  principles  to  wrestle  without  the 
prayer-book  and  Bible,  still  I  am  quite  satisfied  I  can  throw 
you  with  or  without  them;  so  to  oblige  you  I  will  take 
them  out." 

No  sooner  had  he  taken  them  out  than  the  Devil  seized, 
and  threw  him  so  violently,  that  his  very  life  seemed  leav- 
ing him.  He  awoke  in  such  screams  that  brought  his  fath- 
er, who  was  some  time  before  he  succeeded  in  calming  him. 
His  nervous  shock  was  a  ver3r  severe  one. 

Again,  when  about  sixteen,  he  dreamt  that  the  Judg- 
ment-day had  come.  All  mankind  were  passing,  one  by 
one,  over  a  scales.  Those  who  brought  down  the  scales, 
went  to  the  right;  those  who  could  not,  went  to  the  left. 
The  pallid  looks  and  trembling  forms  of  the  countless  hosts 
awaiting  their  turns,  revealed  too  plainly  the  awful  anxiety 
pervading  the  silent  breasts  of  all.  Now  had  come  the  long 
expected  moment  for  the  final  answer  to  the  well  known 
lines: 

"Where  shall  I  find  my  destined  place? 

Shall  I  im   everlasting  days 

With  fiends  or  angels  spend? 

Who  can  resolve  the  doubt 

That  tears  my  anxious  breast? 

Shall  I  be  with  the  damned  cast  out 

Or  numbered  with  the  blest?" 


36  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

The  moments  seemed  years.  Soon,  however,  Merton's 
fate  had  been  decided;  and  he  was  praising  God  for  being 
"numbered  with  the  blest." 

Such  dreams  show  to  a  certainty  the  food  Merton  had 
been  fed  on,  the  books  he  had  read,  his  mental  state,  and 
his  deeply  religious  nature.  It  is  a  pity  such  books  are 
ever  printed.  They  are  a  curse  to  those  who  read  them. 

Merton  found  only  one  thing  painful  to  him  in  the  uni- 
versity. The  students  had  a  custom  of '  'sloping' '  en  masse, 
if  the  professor  should  be  a  few  seconds  late  in  coming  in- 
to the  recitation-room.  By  "sloping"  is  meant,  leaving 
the  room  in  a  body,  precisely  as  the  hour  for  recitation 
arrives.  By  so  doing  the  students  could  not  have  a  new 
lesson  assigned,  and  therefore  would  escape  so  much  study. 
Against  the  practice  of  "sloping,"  Merton  protested  from 
the  beginning.  He  felt  every  lesson  missed  was  a  loss  to 
him,  and  that  the  professor  owed  him  the  recitation.  He 
therefore  would  not  leave,  but  await  the  professor's  ar- 
rival. This  brought  the  ire  of  the  class  down  on  Merton, 
and  frequent  threats  of  vengeance.  One  morning  as  he  was 
passing  under  the  university  porch,  coming  from  a  recita- 
tion in  French,  "which  the  class  had  "sloped, "he  narrowly 
escaped  a  bucket  of  water  thrown  from  the  window  above, 
with  the  purpose  of  giving  him  a  bath,  because  he  would 
not  "slope"  with  the  other  members  of  the  class.  After 
this  the  boys  found  him  more  obdurate  than  ever.  It  was 
not  the  way  to  gain  their  end.  Merton  held  his  own,  and 
finally  brought '  'sloping' '  into  disfavor.  The  boys  liked 
him  the  better  in  the  end  for  what  he  did;  although  it 
seemed  a  little  hard  for  him  at  first.  He  was  very  desirous 
of  gaining  the  friendship  of  his  class;  but  he  could  not 
think  it  right  to  possess  that  friendship,  at  the  expense  of 
losing  his  recitations.  Some  of  his  class  tried,  in  every 
way,  to  make  things  as  disagreeable  for  him  as  possible; 


FRUITS    OF   STUDY.  37 

and  none  persecuted  him  so  bitterly  as   the  ministerial 
students. 

The  daily  routine  of  college  life  soon  becomes  irksome 
and  finally  unbearable  to  a  person  not  naturally  studious, 
or  not  longing  for  a  knowledge  of  nature  as  it  really  is, 
and  of  the  great  souls  who  have  striven  in  the  ages  gone 
by  to  know  it,  and  to  give  their  thoughts  to  the  world 
often  at  the  sacrifice  of  their  lives.  To  know  such  men  as 
they  really  were,  is  to  love  and  revere  them  as  masters 
in  the  domain  of  thought, — as  beacon  lights  of  virtue  and 
wisdom  in  a  world  engulfed  in  ignorance, wealth,  and  lust; 
and  dark  as  the  world  is,  and  always  has  been,  the  earn- 
est student  searching  for  the  truth,  and  not  for  some  prop 
to  support  a  cherished  opinion,  never  finds  it  without 
some  great  souls,  standing  as  rocks  in  mid-ocean,  conse- 
crated to  their  work,  moved  by  the  highest  impulses,  liv- 
ing as  gods  among  men,  and  scattering  seeds  of  justice 
and  truth  wherever  they  go.  It  was  during  the  last  two 
years  at  the  college  of  arts  that  Merton  became  more 
especially  acquainted  with  the  thoughts  of  some  of  these 

men. 

About  this  time  he  received  a  letter  from  his  friend 
and  college  chum,  R.  B.  Faye,  who  had  been  engaged  in 
the  active  work  of  the  ministry  for  some  years;  but  at 
present  was  taking  a  course  at  the  university,  as  a  confer- 
ence student.  Merton  and  Mr.  Faye  confided  to  each 
other  their  inmost  secrets.  The  religious  doubts  and  fears 
of  each  were  not  unknown  to  the  other.  "Oh,  friend 
Merton  !"  he  wrote,  "I  have  to  inform  you  that  my  dar- 
ling L,ena  is  dead.  Yes,  dead,  dead!  My  brightest  earthly 
hopes  are  all  crushed  and  withered.  She  was  not  only 
highly  educated  and  accomplished,  but  naturally  pure, 
virtuous,  modest,  gentle,  and  loving." 

It  is  indirectly  to  the  death  of  this  excellent  young  lady, 
that  Merton  attributed,  to  no  small  degree,  the  great  change 


33  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

that,  a  few  years  after,  passed  over  the  religious  belief  of 
this  friend.  Feeling  his  ignorance  of  those  matters  which 
ministers  in  general  affirm  as  most  certainly  known,  Mr. 
Faye  determined  on  a  course  of  post-graduate  study.  He 
went  to  Breslau,  Germany,  where  he  continued  at  work 
two  years.  He  then  returned,  but  not  to  preach.  The  re- 
sult of  his  work  so  increased  his  conscious  ignorance,  that 
he  resolved  to  assert  no  more,  as  known  and  true,  what 
now  he  clearly  saw  was  unknown  and  unreasonable.  He 
took  up  the  work  of  teaching,  and,  had  he  lived,  would 
have  become  a  well  known  educator.  He  died  suddenly 
while  experimenting  at  the  laboratory  of  the  college  where 
he  was  teaching.  He  left  behind  him  a  widow  and  one  or 
two  little  children.  He  was  a  hard-working  student,  a 
good  man,  and  a  true  friend.  He  was  the  most  intimate 
companion  Merton  ever  had  among  all  his  college  acquaint- 
ances; and  he  deeply  regretted  his  death. 

It  is  quite  generally  supposed  that  great  affliction  and 
sorrow  tend  to  soften,  and  increase  the  religious  spirit  of  the 
sufferer;  but  we  have  not  found  it  so.  On  the  contrary, 
we  believe  that  it  tends  to  increase  the  questioning  spirit, 
and  to  make  of  the  sufferer  a  more  matter-of-fact  man. 

On  Merton's  return  to  the  university,  he  chose  the  lake 
route.  On  board  the  steamboat  there  happened  to  be  among 
the  passengers  an  old  gentleman  by  the  name  of  Taggart. 
He  had  with  him  a  charming  and  beautiful  girl  with  whom 
Merton  soon  became  well  acquainted.  It  was  through  her 
that  he  was  introduced  to  her  father,  who  Merton  discov- 
ered was,  in  popular  language,  an  infidel.  They  frequent- 
ly conversed  on  religious  topics,  at  which  times  Merton 
would  press  upon  him  what  he  regarded  as  the  most  con- 
vincing proof  of  the  deity  of  Christ.  Having  failed  to  satis- 
fy his  inquiring  mind  by  argument,  Merton  spoke  to  him 
of  the  great  pleasure  derived  from  the  feeling  that  God  was 


FRUITS   OF  STUDY.  39 

our  Father.  To  this  he  replied,  "My  dear  sir!  I  never  take 
a  morsel  of  food,  without  thanking  Him  from  whom  all 
things  come.  That  He  is  the  Father  of  all,  I  doubt  not; 
that  I  am  his  child,  I  confidently  believe." 

Here  was  a  man  called  an  infidel  who  Merton  was  forced 
to  admit,  had  a  faith  far  deeper,  and  a  trust  more  complete 
than  he,  although  a  child  of  the  orthodox  faith.  The  know- 
ledge of  this  fact  set  Merton  to  thinking,  which  in  due  time 
brought  forth  its  abundant  fruit. 

The  year  now  opening  was  to  be  his  last  at  the  college 
of  arts;  he  was  a  member  of  the  senior  class.  At  such  times 
young  men's  expectations  are  not  so  great  as  in  preceding 
years.  Fields  at  a  distance  look  green;  distance  lends  en- 
chantment, distorts  the  reality.  Like  that  of  others,  Mer- 
ton's  mind  was  tossed  hither  and  thither,  on  the  tempest 
of  uncertainty.  He  was  in  the  valley  of  indecision.  At  this 
time  he  could  have  well  subscribed  to  the  well  known  words 
of  Vergil: 

' ' Rerumque  ignarus,  imagine  gandet. ' ' 

There  were  very  many  obscure  paths,  but  none  so  plain 
that  he,  a  way-faring  man,  might  not  err  therein. 

As  representing  his  religious  faith  at  this  time,  we  will 
quote  from  what  Merton  wrote,  at  this  date,  in  his  auto- 
graph album: 

'Rerumque  ignarus,  imagine  gaudet.' 
And  can  the  Infinite  be  known? 
Is  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son? 

Him  whom  no  eyes  have  ever  seen,  whose  fiat  is  the  law, 
Jehovah,  Lord,  God  without  end,  man  manifested  saw! 
What  a  conflict  of  words,  unintelligible  surds! 
Who  can  extract  their  root? 
More  than  reason  afford-;,  or  history  records, 
Is  the  mystery  of  (Joel's  own  book. 

Every  line  of  this  original  poem  reveals  deep  doubt,  a 
doubt  ever  widening  and  deepening  as  the  consciousness 


40  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A  SOUL. 

grew  in  him,  that  reason  and  reason  alone  must  be  the  ul- 
timate judge  in  all  things;  and  that  whatever  teachings  did 
violence  to  reason,  should  not  be  accepted  as  true  elements 
of  faith.  That  not  a  few  dogmas  of  Christianity  did  vio- 
lence to  reason,  contradicted  one  another,  and  all  ideas  of 
the  justice  and  goodness  of  God,  Mertou  could  not  for  one 
moment  doubt. 

Merton  had  now  finished  the  course  of  study  for  the  de- 
gree of  B.  A. ,  and  that,  too,  with  great  distinction;  for  of  the 
many  young  men  who  had  been  contending  with  him  for 
the  gold  medal,  not  one  remained  at  the  beginning  of  the 
senior  year:  he  had  outrun  them  all  in  the  race.  But  his 
philosophical  and  scientific  studies  had  served  greatly  to 
weaken  his  faith  which  once  could  receive  the  most  un- 
reasonable assertions,  though  based  on  the  most  incredible 
testimony.  This  effect  is  clearly  manifested  in  a  poem  com- 
posed by  Merton  at  that  time,  and  with  which  we  close  this 
chapter.  We  give  the  poem  not  for  its  merit,  but  to  illus- 
trate the  effect  on  Merton's  mind  of  philosophical  and  scien- 
tific studies: 

Now  rest  my  soul.     Where  wouldst  thou  go? 

I'd  question  thee  of  worlds  unknown. 

Why  sayest  thou,   'let  me  alone, 

I'm  doomed  to  linger  here  below?  ' 

The  Hand  that  guides  the  starry  host, 
And  feeds  for  aye  the  cosmic  flame, 
That  gives  to  great  and  small  a  name, 
That  moveth  all  and  loveth  most, — 

Whence  came  that  Hand,  if  such  there  be? 
What  powers  produced  the  awful  Cause? 
What  are,  who  framed,  the  cosmic  laws? 
Would'st  thou  by  silence  silence  me? 

The  link  that  binds  thee  to  the  sky, 
In  substance  what,  in  strength  how  great? 
When  was  it  wrought?  and  why  create 
A  link  whose  substance  some  deny? 


FRUITS    OF   STUDY.  4 1 

Still  more  I  ask:  whence  comest  thou? 

Now,  hold  thy  peace;  I  question  fair. 

If  able,  unto  me  declare 

Where  first  thou  dwelt,  where  dwellest  now, 

A  friend  sincere  I've  always  been, 
Would  gratify  thy  least  desire; 
Yet  know  not  I  if  earth  or  fire 
Thou  art;  indeed,  if  anything. 

I  do  not  know  thee  who  thou  art, 
And  more,  I'm  ignorant  of  myself; 
Of  things  below,  e'en  though  but  pelf, 
Uncertain,  too;  yet  love  to  mark — 

Th'  unfolding  flower,  the  budding  tree, 
The  march  of  time,  th'  expanding  soul, 
The  atom,  m<  lecule,  the  whole, 
E'en  though  thou  ne'er  canst  answer  me. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CREDULITY. 

Wisdom  and  knowledge  shall  be  the  stability  of  thy  times. 

(fsaia/i.) 

HPHE  summer  in  which  he  took  his  first  degree  in  science 
and  arts,  Merton  passed  with  his  mother  and  young- 
est brother.  During  this  time  Merton  was  frequently  with 
his  brother's  minister,  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tubbs,  whose  sermons 
appealed  more  to  the  reason  than  to  the  feelings.  Many  of 
Mr.  Tubbs'  people  were  displeased,  and  Merton  wondered 
not;  for  of  those  who  fill  the  churches,  but  few  are  they 
who  relish  reason.  One  said,  "There  is  no  food  to  be  had 
in  this  church  now."  Said  another,  "He  looks  for  all  the 
world  like  an  actor.  If  he  has  not  missed  his  calling,  then 
I  am  no  judge  of  human  nature." 

"I  can  not  help  thinking,"  said  Mr.  Tubbs  one  day, 
'  'that  I  have  some  friends  in  this  church;  but  I  do  not  think, 
Mr.  Merton,  that  I  have  ever  preached  a  sermon  in  this 
place  to  what  might  be  called  an  appreciative  audience. ' ' 

Merton  replied  that  he  was  sorry  to  hear  what  Mr. 
Tubbs  had  said;  and  asked  if  the  elder  was  not  on  friendly 
terms  with  him. 

"The  elder,"  said  Mr.  Tubbs,  "is  outwardly  a  profes- 
sor of  sanctification ;  but  in  his  heart,  Mr.  Merton,  he  is  an 
infidel." 

Shortly  after  Merton 's  arrival  the  quarterly  meeting  of 
the  church  was  held.  The  question  came  up  whether  or 
not  Mr.  Tubbs  should  be  invited  to  return  another  year. 
At  the  first  opportunity  Father  Sanctity  arose,  and  said: 
"I  have  a  large  class,  which  as  all  know  is  the  backbone 
of  the  church;  and  my  class  to  a  man  is  opposed  to  Mr. 
Tubbs'  return.  They  know  that  Mr.  Tubbs  can  not  feed 
them  with  Gospel  truth.     They  ask  wheat,  and  receive 

4^ 


CREDULITY.  43 

chaff;  they  ask  a  fish,  and  receive  a  stone.  I  give  my 
warning  voice  here  in  this  meeting  against  inviting  Mr. 
Tubbs  to  return  here  another  year.  Do  so,  brethren,  and 
you  do  so  at  your  own  peril.  I  have  been  a  Methodist  all 
my  life,  and  I  know  what  Methodism  is,  and  I  know  that 
Mr.  Tubbs'  new-fangled  notions  are  not  the  good  old-fash- 
ioned Methodism  that  I  have  been  used  to,  and  I  want 
none  of  it.  These  are  my  sentiments  and  the  sentiments  of 
my  class." 

There  were  several  other  class-leaders  present  who  felt 
highly  offended  at  the  manner  in  which  Father  Sanctity 
had  extolled  himself  and  his  class.  Seeing  how  their  feel- 
ings were  hurt,  Merton  arose,  and  said  that  Father  Sanc- 
tity should  not  be  misunderstood;  that  none  better  than 
Father  Sanctity  knew  that  the  church  did  not  stand  on  one 
man  or  one  class;  that  Father  Sanctity  was  a  hard-working 
member  of  the  church,  and,  as  such,  had  a  right  to  be 
heard;  but  that  neither  Father  Sanctity  nor  his  class  could 
suppose  that  their  judgment  should  overrule  the  combined 
judgment  of  the  rest.  Merton  said  that  his  own  opinion 
was,  that  Mr.  Tubbs  should  be  invited  to  return  to  them 
another  year;  that  it  was  desirable  for  Mr.  Tubbs'  future 
success,  and  that  it  was  far  from  certain  that  any  other  man 
whom  they  might  have  in  his  place,  would  be  any  more 
acceptable  to  the  people  of  Eudoxia.  For  this  speech 
Father  Sanctity  could  never  forgive  Merton.  At  the  first 
prayer-meeting  Merton  attended  on  his  return  from  school 
the  next  year,  he  saw  many  familiar  faces.  Father  Sanctity 
was  there,  and  was  even  invited  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tubbs  to 
make  the  closing  prayer.  He  did  so  in  a  most  familiar, 
boisterous  manner.  He  prayed  for  a  heart  of  love  to  God 
and  man;  a  heart  forgiving  and  kind;  a  heart  at  peace  with 
the  world  and  its  God;  a  heart  into  which  malice  should 
never  enter;  a  heart  like  unto  the  heart  of  Christ.   His  pe- 


44  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

titions  were  in  general  such  as  the  pure-minded  Marcus 
Aurelius  might  have  made,  and  every  child  of  man  wish 
granted.  The  people  having  been  dismissed,  there  was  a 
general  shaking  of  hands.  Merton  approached  Father  Sanc- 
tity, and  offered  him  his  hand.  He  refused  to  take  it,  say- 
ing Merton  had  hurt  him  the  preceding  year.  Merton  told 
him  he  was  shocked  at  him,  at  the  mockery  of  his  prayer, 
and  advised  him  to  go  home,  enter  his  secret  chamber, 
and  come  out  no  more  until  he  had  a  better  heart. 

Here  Merton  had  the  most  certain  proof  that  man  may 
use  the  words  of  prayer,  yet  never  pray;  that  his  lips  may 
say,  "the  L,ord  be  with  you,"  while  in  his  heart  he  may 
wish  that  you  be  possessed  of  a  demon.  Of  this  fact  he  be- 
came more  and  more  convinced,  as  he  watched  more  and 
more  the  lives  of  those  who  prayed.  This  knowledge  in- 
creased the  doubts  already  existing  in  his  breast,  and  made 
him  begin  a  more  searching  investigation  of  the  fundamen- 
tals of  Christianity.  He  felt  more  and  more  the  uncertain- 
ty of  things  received  without  question,  and  determined  not 
to  enter  on  the  work  of  the  ministry,  until  he  sought  and 
obtained  more  information.  He  therefore  made  up  his  mind 
to  complete  a  theological  course.  By  so  doing  he  felt  sure 
he  should  get  more  light  on  those  matters  which  now  were 
so  obscure  to  him.  Surely,  he  thought,  men  whose  sole 
work  it  is  to  teach  theology,  must  know  more  than  all  others 
about  the  Being  of  whom  they  speak.  So  Merton  thought, 
but  so  he  found  was  not  the  case.  Rather  did  he  find  in 
theology  a  mass  of  jarring  words,  and  of  unreasonable  and 
conflicting  statements;  and  in  theologians,  the  bitterest  an- 
tagonism to  one  another,  and  a  general  and  profound  ig- 
norance concerning  the  subjects  of  which  they  speak.  And 
after  long  continued  and  most  earnest  study,  through  the 
best  and  richest  years  of  his  life,  Merton  became  convinced 
that  theologians,  as  a  class,  are  very  fitly  characterized  by 


CREDULITY.  45 

the  words  of  Democritus: 

oacrov  aWotoi  /xeTetpw,  t6<tov  dp    <r<f>t.<rv  alel 
kcli  rb  (popveiv  dWoia  ■Ko.piUTa.ro — 

By  as  much  as  they  differ  in  nature, 
Do  they  always  differ  in  opinion. 

The  truth  of  these  words  may  be  doubted,  but  they  can  . 
be  doubted  only  by  him  who  has  not  sufficiently  investi- 
gated the  subject.  Merton  was  now  again  hard  at  work, 
studying  for  his  degree  in  divinity.  He  found  a  great 
change  from  the  atmosphere  of  a  scientific  school  to  that 
of  a  theological  college.  Everything  was  different.  No 
more  free  discussion;  no  more  study  of  nature;  no 
more  experimental  inquiry.  Even  the  very  countenances 
of  the  professors  had  an  appearance  altogether  different 
from  that  of  teachers  with  souls  at  liberty  to  seek  and  speak 
the  truth.  They  seemed  all  to  have  been  cast  -in  the  same 
mold;  and,  as  birds  in  a  cage,  all  to  act  as  if  conscious  of 
the  narrow  limits  within  which  they  were  at  liberty  to 
move.  Merton  often  thought,  however,  that  as  the  captive 
bird,  long  confined,  loses  the  power  of  flight;  so,  perhaps, 
those  professors,  having  been  so  long  schooled  to  act  and 
teach  under  the  restraint  of  their  dogmas,  may  have  been 
unconscious  of  their  imprisonment,  and  even  of  the  terrible 
ecclesiastical  threat  which  always  hung  over  them — '  'thus 
far  shalt  thou  go  and  no  farther,  and  here  shall  thy  proud 
search  after  the  truth  be  stayed. ' '  Merton  clearly  perceived 
that  every  theological  professor  had  his  premises  provided 
him.  With  these  he  might  labor  to  instruct  his  students, 
deducing  such  conclusions  as  seemed  best  to  him,  or  as 
were  generally  drawn;  but  he  would  not  dare  question  the 
premises,  nor  materially  differ  from  other  teachers,  in  the 
conclusions  he  arrived  at.  Should  he  be  rash  enough  to 
attempt  this,  he  would  certainly  lose  his  chair,  and  per. 
haps  be  exposed  to  want;  and  the  student  who  should  at- 


46  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

tempt  it,  would  be  advised  to  leave  the  school,  as  an  unfit 
person  to  lead  the  flock  of  Christ.  Students  would  often 
question  among  themselves  the  truth  of  this  or  of  that  dog- 
ma, or  the  genuineness  of  their  episcopate;  but  they  would 
not  dare  express  such  thoughts  before  their  professors,  nor 
too  freely  in  the  presence  of  one  another.  Should  they  do  so, 
they  would  be  told  that  such  questions  are  asked  by  the 
infidel  only,  and  that  with  such  a  person  there  was  no  time 
to  waste  in  that  school.  Days,  weeks,  months,  years  might 
be  spent  in  teaching  what  hymns  to  have  sung,  how  the 
scriptures  should  be  read,  how  best  to  raise  money  for  parish 
expenses,  how  to  prepare  and  deliver  sermons,  how  to  con- 
duct prayer-meetings,  how  to  work  up  revivals,  how  to  in- 
tone, what  vestments  to  wear,  the  origin  of  the  creeds,  the 
collects,  or  the  rubrics;  but  not  a  moment  to  satisfactory 
inquiry  into  the  nature  of  the  foundation  upon  which  all 
this  super-incumbent,  ecclesiastical  structure  is  said  to  be 
founded.  Still,  the  air  of  the  school  seemed  healthier  to 
Merton  than  that  of  most  others;  and  the  lectures  of  the 
professors,  less  conventional,  and  more  full  of  research, 
than  that  of  the  average  minister.  The  truth  is  that  the 
professors  under  whom  Merton  sat,  at  this  time,  were  not 
so  creed-bound  as  such  teachers  in  general;  for  some  of 
them  had  imbibed  deeply  from  the  fountains  of  German 
rationalism,  and  had  already  acquired  the  name  of  being 
skeptically  inclined.  The  lectures  of  the  professor  of  sys- 
tematic theology,  if  logically  construed,  would  leave  noth- 
ing standing  of  dogmatical  Christianity;  and  many  of  the 
visiting  lecturers  taught  what,  in  the  parish  minister,  would 
be  called  rank  infidelity.  Merton  often  noticed  that  after 
having  battered  the  walls  upon  which  they  stood,  they 
would,  just  before  leaving  the  rostrum,  carefully  patch  up 
the  breaks  they  had  made,  lest  they  might  be  overwhelmed 
in  their  temple's  destruction;  or  lest  the  ecclesiastical  pow- 


CREDULITY.  47 

ers  might  seize,  and  dethrone  them  from  their  exalted  po- 
sition. Especially  liberal  in  his  exegesis,  was  the  professor 
of  Hebrew.  His  sharp  shears  so  pruned  the  Old  Testament , 
that  in  Merton's  judgment,  not  much  of  the  Jewish  tree  re- 
mained; and  at  the  fall  of  every  branch,  the  professor  would 
smile  from  a  sense  of  satisfaction,  as  Merton  thought,  in 
having  pruned  a  tree  whose  branches  served  as  the  resort 
of  so  many  birds  of  prey .  Among  the  many  preparing  for  the 
ministry,  was  a  young  man  named  Pascoe.  In  proof  of  the 
untrustworthiness  of  '  'calls' '  in  general,  we  here  give  what 
Mr.  Pascoe  considered  the  indubitable  signs  of  his  "call:" 

"I  was  a  superintendent  of  a  mine  in  England,  when  I 
felt  my  'call';  but,  like  Gideon  of  old,  I  wished  a  positive 
sign  from  God.  I  took  a  sample  of  ore,  divided  it  into  two 
equal  portions,  kept  one  for  myself,  and  sent  the  other  to  a 
regular  assayist.  Not  understanding  the  work  of  assaying, 
I  promised  God  that  if  I  determined  correctly  the  percent- 
age of  metal  in  the  ore,  I  would  regard  it  as  a  positive  sign 
that  I  was  called  to  the  work  of  the  ministry.  In  due  time 
I  was  surprised  to  know  that  the  result  of  my  assay  agreed 
exactly  with  that  of  the  regular  assayist.  For  this  I  thanked 
God;  but,  still,  I  was  undecided.  Again  I  asked  for  a  sign. 
I  took  some  more  ore,  and,  as  before,  divided  it  into  two 
equal  portions,  keeping  one  myself,  and  sending  the  other 
to  the  assayist.  This  time  I  promised  God  that  if  I  could 
find  no  metal  in  the  ore  as  the  result  of  my  assay,  I  would 
not  doubt  that  He  had  called  me  to  preach  the  everlasting 
Gospel  of  the  Son  of  God.  To  my  great  surprise,  although 
the  assayist  found  the  same  percentage  of  metal  as  be- 
fore, I  could  not  find  even  a  trace.  I  thanked  God  for  such 
a  miraculous  manifestation  of  his  will  concerning  me, 
and  from  that  time  I  have  not  doubted  my  'call.'  At 
the  same  time  I  was  engaged  to  be  married  to  a  beautiful 
and  accomplished  young  lady,  who  on  finding  my  determi- 
nation to  enter  the  ministry,  refused  to  become  my  wife.  I 
was  pained  to  give  her  up;  but  she  drifted  away  with  the 


48  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

world,  while  I  am  still  clinging  to  the  cross.   '  Do  you  not 
think,  Bro.  Merton,  that  I  had  a  wonderful  experience  ?  " 

"  However  unfounded  the  reasons  for  a  person's  rejoic- 
ing may  be,  Mr.  Pascoe,  it  is  almost  a  pity  to  disturb  his 
pleasant  imaginations  ;  but  I  am  bound  to  confess  that  I 
have  but  little  faith  in  the  miraculous  nature  of  your  '  call.' 
As  water  will  seek  the  lowest  level,  so  must  I  always  seek 
the  most  natural  explanation  of  whatever  occurs.  I  believe, 
if  every  one  did  this,  there  would  be  acknowledged  no  in- 
terference with  the  ordinary  operations  of  nature.  As  I 
have  never  seen  nor  heard  sufficient  evidence  for  the 
acknowledgment  of  the  occurrence  of  miracles  in  the  past, 
so  in  your  case  I  see  nothing  which  1  could  not  more  reason- 
ably explain  without  a  miracle  than  with  it.  Besides,  if  you 
had  a  right  to  demand  a  miracle  in  proof  of  your  mission, 
which  you  must  confess  is  a  very  small  matter,  I  certainly 
have  a  right  to  demand  one  in  proof  that  the  regular  laws 
of  nature  have  been  violated,  which  we  both  must  admit 
would  be  a  stupendous  thing  to  happen.  As  you  can  not 
give  me  such  proof,  I  do  not  see  how,  as  a  reasonable  man, 
I  can  believe  that  God  gave  you  a  miraculous  sign.  It 
seems  to  me  it  takes  a  miracle  to  prove  a  miracle,  and  that 
too,  without  end;  and  this  fact,  it  seems  to  me,  makes  belief 
in  miracles  impossible.  In  your  case  I  find  it  much  easier 
to  suppose,  first,  that  the  crucible  leaked,  or,  second,  that 
the  ore  was  non  metallic,  than  in  the  occurrence  of  a 
miracle.  Again,  you  must  have  been  greatly  excited,  be- 
lieving as  you  did  in  the  visible  interference  of  the  hand  of 
God.  This  itself  would  make  you  a  very  unsafe  witness  to 
testify  in  matters  which,  because  of  their  very  nature,  de- 
mand the  coolest  reason,  and  most  critical  judgment.  Lastly, 
by  your  own  account,  you  were  not  a  skilled  assayist.  Even 
in  a  common  court  of  law,  in  proof  of  every-day  occur- 
rences, your  testimony  would  be  inadmissible,  having  ad- 


CREDULITY.  49 

mitted  your  own  incompetency.  What  witness  can  testify 
about  matters  of  which  he  himself  admits  his  ignorance  ?  I 
can  .not  receive  your  testimony  concerning  the  percentage 
of  metal,  as  proving  your  case.  I  must  conclude  that  you 
were  deceived  as  to  what  you  supposed  was  a  miracle.  It 
seems  to  me,  to  believe  that  in  your  case  there  was  a  miracle 
performed,  would  be  like  a  man  attempting  to  create  a  god 
to  do  a  piece  of  work  which  a  mouse  could  easily  accom- 
plish. No  man  should  look  to  a  miracle  for  the  explanation 
of  an  occurrence  which  obviously  offers  a  more  ready  ex- 
planation. Still,  the  proof  you  give  for  your  miracle,  is 
much  superior  to  that  for  miracles  in  general,  since  it  is  given 
me  at  first  hand,  and  by  a  man  I  know." 

Mr.  Gottlieb  was  the  superintendent  of  the  Methodist 
Sunday-school  in  Euphronia.  Merton,  while  at  his  house  one 
evening,  was  told  the  following  in  proof  of  miraculous 
interferences:  "Not  long  ago,"  he  said,  "I  lost  my  place 
on  the  New  York  Exchange.  I  tried  every  honest  means 
to  get  back,  but  my  enemies  were  too  powerful  for  me.  My 
family,  used  to  luxury,  was  now  threatened  with  want.  In 
this  state  I  sent  a  letter  to  one  of  the  most  prominent  mem- 
bers, who,  I  knew,  if  he  would,  could  have  me  re-instated  in 
my  former  position.  He  answered  my  letter,  saying :  '  Ask 
me  no  favors;  I  have  done  with  you.  Never!  never!  never! 
shall  you  get  back  again,  if  I  have  the  power  to  keep  you 
out.'  The  letter  gave  me  an  indescribable  feeling.  I  felt 
ruined,  or  as  one  who  had  lost  all  hope.  With  penury  and 
disgrace  staring  me  in  the  face,  and  the  thought  of  a  ruined 
family  breaking  my  heart,  I  suddenly  thought  of  my  God. 
I  went  to  the  blessed  book,  opened  its  pages  at  random;  and 
the  first  text  V  saw,  was :  '  Behold,  I  have  set  before  thee  an 
open  door,  and  no  man  can  shut  it.'  I  took  some  letter-pa- 
per, wrote  down  the  promise,  and  sent  it  to  the  man  who 
before  had   answered   me  so  cruelly.     I  waited  some  time. 


50  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

fully  believing  that  God  would  send  his  angel,  and  open 
the  door,  no  matter  how  great  the  stone  they  had  rolled 
against  it.  God  kept  his  promise  with  me,  Mr.  Merton.  In 
a  short  time  I  was  back  again  in  my  old  place;  and,  as  far 
as  the  happiness  of  my  family  was  concerned,  I  once  more 
felt  my  feet  upon  a  rock.  From  that  time,  Mr.  Merton,  I 
have  never  been  able  to  doubt  the  Lord.  He  makes  a  way 
for  his  people,  even  though  it  be  through  the  Red  Sea. ' ' 

Merton  greatly  wondered  why  a  man  of  Mr.  Gottlieb's 
intelligence,  should  seek  a  miracle,  a  supernatural  cause, 
for  the  explanation  of  something  the  most  natural  in  the 
world.  Even  were  it  true  that  without  the  words  or  pro- 
mises sent  to  the  person,  Mr.  Gottlieb  would  never  have 
had  his  old  place  again,  still  it  does  not  follow  that  a  mira- 
cle was  performed.  On  reading  the  words  it  would  be  but 
natural  for  his  enemy  to  think,  and,  perhaps,  reflect;  and 
partly  from  the  sense  of  justice,  and  partly  from  the  feeling 
of  pity,  to  relent,  and  move  to  restore  the  offending  party. 
And,  again,  when  we  know  that  the  mind  of  the  most  re- 
lentless enemy  is  subject  to  change,  we  should  seek  an  ex- 
planation of  such  restoration  here,  a  natural  cause,  rather 
than  in  something  subversive  of  the  order  of  nature,  a  su- 
pernatural cause.  It  is  wonderful  on  what  flimsy  evidence 
the  credulous-minded  man  admits  the  occurrence  of  mira- 
cles; but  the  reasonable  man  can  not  easily  be  induced  to 
look  beyond  nature,  as  he  knows  it,  for  the  explanation  of 
things  occurring  in  nature.  Mr.  Gottlieb  had  a  very  pleas- 
ant home,  and  quite  a  refined  family;  but  very  probably, 
had  he  given  less  attention  to  making  corners  in  wheat, 
and  gambling  on  Wall  street,  thus  increasing  the  poor 
man's  sweat,  and  decreasing  his  bread;  and  more  attention 
to  the  proper  cultivation  of  his  intellect,  he  would  have  been 
able  to  find,  even  in  his  own  village,  a  ready  explanation 
of  all  that  had  occurred,  and  thus  saved  himself  the  trouble 


CREDULITY.  5 1 

of  going  beyond  the  stars  for  it.  But  living  in  a  world 
where  superstition  is  planted  in  hot-beds,  and  cultivated 
with  the  most  assiduous  care,  it  is  hard  to  free  the  uncul- 
tivated mind  from  the  bands  with  which  he  is  bound ;  even 
when  you  attempt  to  do  so,  you  are  in  clanger  of  being 
charged  with  atheism  or  infidelity. 

Merton  thought  the  country  surrounding   the  theolog- 
ical school  a  most  charming  one;  that  no  place  of  learning 
could  have  had  a  more  delightful  situation.     It  was  sur- 
rounded with  beautiful  grounds  covered  with  stately  trees, 
among  which  stood  the  charming  homes  of  the  different 
professors  whose  work  it  was  to  teach  the  students  the  prin- 
ciples of  their  faith.    Often  would  Merton  saunter  through 
those  beautiful  grounds,  admiring  the  tall  chestnut  trees, 
the  shady  beech,  the  beautiful  hickory,  the  graceful  ma- 
ple, and  the  noble  oak;  and  when  admiring  them,   their 
beauty  and  grandeur  seemed  to  increase.    There  seems  to 
be  a  bond  of  sympathy  running  through  the  whole  crea- 
tion.     Often  in  his  gloomy  hours  could    Merton   imagine 
that  he  heard  the  pine-tree  groan;  and  when  his  heart  was 
full  of  pleasure,  he  could  not  fail  to  see  expand,  as  if  with 
joy,  the  leafy  branches  of  the  beautiful  maple,  nor  hear  the 
laugh  of  the  morning-glories.  And  why  should  this  not  be 
so?  Are  we  not  all  children  of  the  same  mother,  earth? 
And  are  we  not  all  alike  hushed  to  sleep  on  the  same  breast 
that  nursed  our  life?  Merton  might  well  have  felt  his  unity 
with  nature,  and  nature's  unity  with  him.     Nor  could  he 
in  those  walks  fail  to  think  of  the  future.     The  time  and 
place  were   fitting  contemplation.       "Building  castles  in 
the  air,"  is  all  many  have  to  live  on;  and  while  he  had  even 
then   no  small  pleasure  in  acquiring  knowledge,  and  in- 
creasing his  information,  he   could  still  think  of  a  time 
when  he  should  be  settled  in  life's  work,   building  up  on 
earth  the  kingdom  of  God  the  Father.   His  study-room  was 


52  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

not  a  mansion.  No  lawns  nor  beautiful  walks  surrounded 
his  humble  dwelling-place;  but  peace  reigned  within  and 
without,  and  the  smile  of  his  God  was  upon  him.  His 
heart  was  the  temple  of  the  Father,  who  was  as  near  to 
him  as  to  wrestling  Jacob,  or  royal  David;  and  his  life  was 
a  unity  of  experience  and  hope.  The  aspect  of  the  outer 
world  seems  determined  by  the  state  of  the  world  within. 
To  the  heart  contented  and  happy,  all  nature  appears  in 
festive  attire;  to  the  heart  despairing  and  broken,  she  ap- 
pears in  mourning  weeds.  Thus  it  was  with  Merton:  with 
all  his  doubts  and  fears  he  saw  the  image  of  God  reflected 
ill,  to  him,  the  living  world;  and  he  rejoiced  in  the  thought 
of  the  nearness  and  fatherhood  of  God.  Between  nature 
and  God,  Merton  could  find  no  strife;  for  to  him  the  for- 
mer was  but  the  visible  manifestation  of  the  invisible  Deity. 
Conformity  to  the  laws  of  nature  was  to  him  the  highest 
evidence  of  conformity  to  the  will  of  God;  and  this  is  most 
certainly  true.     As  Schiller  says: 

'•Wohl  weiss  ich  dass  man  Gott  nicht  dient,  wenn  man  die 
Ordnung  der  Natur  verlaesst. — Well  do  I  know  that  man  can  not 
serve  God,  and  depart,  at  the  same  time,  from  Nature's  order." 

{Mary  Stuart,  II.  2.) 


CHAPTER  V. 

KNOWLEDGE    AND    BELIEF. 

When  you  hear  a  discourse,  make  jour  understanding  keep 
pace  with  it;  and  reach  as  far  as  you  can  into  events  and  their 
causes.  (Marcus  Aurelius.) 

"VlERTON  was  now  pursuing  the  studies  of  the  last  year 
in  the  divinity  school.  In  the  autumn  of  this  year, 
he  made  a  visit  to  the  great  city.  Having  found  a  con- 
spicuous place,  he  watched  the  moving  mass  of  people 
coming  out  of  the  cars.  What  a  sight!  There  a  bridal  couple 
making  a  marriage  tour,  with  countenances  radiant  with 
pleasure;  here  a  pale  face,  with  sunken  eyes,  and  emacia- 
ted form,  finding  her  way  to  the  grave,  chased  by  Con- 
sumption; there  the  riches  of  Dives,  here  the  poverty  of 
Lazarus;  there  the  revelry  of  Belshazzar  the  king,  here  the 
mourning  of  the  widow  of  Nain.  As  Merton  reflected  on 
these  different  phases  of  human  life,  he  thought  how  fre- 
quently they  are  all  experienced  by  the  one  human  soul. 
As  the  gamut  contains  all  the  notes  of  the  scale,  so  some 
men  seem  to  experience  every  varied  phase  of  human  life, 
from  the  highest  point  of  power  to  the  lowest  depths  of 
degradation  and  woe. 

Merton  spent  some  time  in  the  city,  and  while  there 
saw  such  marks  of  poverty  as  he  never  before  had  seen, 
and  never  afterwards  forgot.  The  sight  of  poverty  and 
want  was  always  most  painful  to  him;  and  no  greater  pain 
could  he  ever  experience  than  that  which  he  sometimes 
felt,  when  obliged  to  be  dead  to  an  appeal  for  aid. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  school  year,  Merton  had  also 
taken  a  trip  by  boat  from  Boston  to  New  York;  and  when 
coming  up  the  Sound,   he  was  so  struck  with  the  solemn 


53 


54  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

grandeur  of  the  scenery,  that  he  could  not  help  soliloquiz- 
ing: "How  many,  happy  as  we,  have  gazed  on  this  immor- 
tal current,  who  now  have  ceased  to  be  remembered  for- 
ever! How  many  hands,  once  clasped  in  love  or  prayer, 
are  now  folded,  in  the  stillness  of  death,  across  the  silent 
breasts  lying  along  the  shore  of  this  unmindful  stream!  It 
reveals  no  secrets,  tells  no  tales,  represents  no  parting 
scenes,  pictures  no  bosoms  trembling  with  pleasure,  nor 
paints  a  soul  engulfed  in  woe;  but  heedless  and  unmind- 
ful, it  keeps  on  its  course  amid  all  the  changing  scenes  of 
life.  Neither  smiles  nor  tears;  neither  nuptial  songs  nor 
funeral  dirge;  neither  the  cry  of  joy  that  a  child  is  born, 
nor  the  wail  of  despair  that  a  loved  one  is  dead,  can  move 
the  heart  of  this  mighty  monarch,  this  conqueror  of  time. 
Where  are  the  many  tribes  of  men  that,  one  after  another, 
in  the  ages  gone  by,  have  wandered  up  and  down  these 
shores?  Where  are  the  many  friends,  once  so  dear  to  us, 
who  have  disappeared  in  the  darkness  that  enshrouds  so 
impenetrably  the  whole  world?  Some  small  memento, 
worthless  in  itself  perhaps,  but  priceless  to  us,  is  all  that 
now  remains  to  remind  us  of  their  love,  or  that  they  once 
did  live.  We  strain  our  sight  with  gazing,  we  pain  the 
ear  with  listening,  we  break  our  hearts  at  waiting,  yet  they 
come  not;  'till  the  heavens  be  no  more,  they  shall  not 
awake,  nor  be  raised  out  of  their  sleep. '  Loudly  as  we  may 
pray,  and  confidently  as  we  may  believe,  the  question, 
where  are  they,  still  remains  unanswered  and  unanswer- 
able; and  the  only  solution  of  the  mysterious  problem  of 
immortality,  seems  necessarily  postponed  till  our  death. 
This,  indeed,  soon  comes.  As  all  streams  hasten  to  the 
sea,  there  to  be  swallowed  up  in  its  all-engulfing  waters; 
thus  the  ever  flowing  flood  of  time  carries  us  onward,  till 
we  too  are  lost  in  the  unfathomable  ocean  of  oblivion.  But 
how  few  have  reason  to  hope  for  life  beyond  the  grave,  ac- 


KNOWLEDGE    AND    BEEIEF.  55 

cording  to  the  principles  of  our  own  faith!  How  few,  even 
in  Christian  lands,  have  saving  faith  in  Christ!  and  what 
an  insignificant  part  of  humanity  are  marching  under  the 
banner  of  the  Nazareue!  Can  it  be  possible  that  those  who 
believe  not  in  Christ's  divinity,  are  forever  lost!  If  this  be 
true,  how  much  better  had  humanity  never  been  born! 
What  an  awful  mistake  must  the  Creator  have  made!" 

Thus  did  this  earnest  soul  converse  with  himself.  How- 
ever ardently  he  prayed,  labored,  and  studied,  there  yet 
remained  with  Merton  an  ever  conscious  sense  of  deep  un- 
certainty. The  vacancy  for  something  higher  and  nobler 
than  he  yet  possessed,  was  not  filled;  rather  was  his  hun- 
ger for  a  deeper  and  more  reasonable  faith  day  by  day  in- 
tensified. True,  he  had  finished  a  course  in  arts,  and  was 
now  fast  completing  his  work  in  divinity,  by  which  he  had 
hoped  to  attain  to  a  satisfactory  knowledge  concerning  the 
matters  he  was  to  teach;  but,  sad  to  say,  at  this  time  he 
felt  no  realization  of  former  expectations.  The  question 
may  be  asked,  why  at  this  time  he  did  not  turn  aside  from 
the  work  of  the  ministry.  We  answer,  it  was  because  of 
the  fear  that  by  so  doing  he  might  be  opposing  the  will  of 
God,  as  well  as  because  of  the  unsettled  character  of  his 
■own  doubts.  He  thought,  having  done  what  he  had,  that 
he  should  go  on,  until  he  felt  more  certain  of  the  truth  or 
falsity  of  the  things  he  then  doubted.  He  could  not  hear 
a  missionary  sermon,  without  feeling  deep  offence  at  what 
was  said;  he  could  not  listen  to  a  sermon  on  the  atone- 
ment, without  feeling  shocked  at  the  character  attributed 
to  God;  he  could  not  listen  to  the  preacher  who  assigned 
the  heathen  to  everlasting  perdition,  and  the  Christian  to 
everlasting  blessedness,  without  being  shocked  at  his  blas- 
phemy. He  protested  in  his  soul  against  the  doctrine  that 
God  ever  had  a  chosen  people;  or  that  eternal  blessedness 
awaits  a  man,  because  he  happens  to  be  born  in  a  peculiar 


56  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

faith.  Let  us  ask  ourselves,  was  he  not  right  in  doing  this. 
Little  power  has  any  man  over  the  place  where  he  shall  be 
born,  and  but  little  more  has  he  over  the  choice  of  his 
earliest  associations.    But  it  is  these  two  factors  that  enter 
so  largely  into  the  product  of  his  life's  forces;  and,    there- 
fore, according   to  orthodoxy,   that  determine  the  soul's 
eternal  state.   I  ask  myself,   why  am  I  a  Christian?     Is  it 
my  fault?  Why  is  the  Turk  a   Mohammedan?  Is  it  his 
fault?  Why  is  the  Indian  a  Buddhist?  Is  he  to  blame?  If 
the  Buddhist  be  consigned   to   hell,    because   of  that   for 
which  he  can  not  be  blamed,  why  should  not  I,  in  like 
manner,  be  consigned  to  hell,  because  of  that  for  which  I 
am  not  to  be  blamed?  Why  was  I  brought  up  in  the  Church 
of  England?  I  certainly  did  not  make  the  choice.     Why 
was  the  Chinee  brought  up  to  believe  in  Confucius?  He  cer- 
tainly did  not  choose  the  faith  he  should  be  raised  in.  Merton 
could  not  help  thinking,  if  the  Buddhist  should  be  damned 
for  accepting  a  faith  his  father  and  mother  taught  him,  and 
believed  in  by  his  race,  that  he  should  be  damned  for  do- 
ing likewise.   He  could  not  help  believing  in  Christianity, 
as  best  for  him,  and  his  race;  but  he  was  inclined  to  believe 
that,  as  God  had  given  him  a  religion,  so  had  He  given 
others,  or  else  to  conclude  that  God  acts  with  partiality 
and  injustice.     He  clearly  saw  that  much  of  his  faith  was 
based  on  mere  opinion;  that  he  was  what  he  was,  largely 
because  of  custom,  habit,  training,  associations,  and  other 
such  accidents;  and  that  for  these  accidents,   no  man  can 
be  justly  blamed  or  praised.     He  was  the  more  confirmed 
in  this  belief  from  the  knowledge  that  the  most  intelligent 
of  every  age  had  not  received,  and   would  not   receive, 
Christianity  as  commonly  taught;  that  the  philosopher's 
interpretation  of  Christianity  is  one  thing,  and  the  theolo- 
gian's another, — the  former  looking  deeper  into  the  nature 
of  things,  the  latter  skimming  along  on  their  surfaces.    In 


KNOWLEDGE    AND    BELIEF.  57 

other  words,  while  the  philosopher  seeks  real  knowledge, 
the  theologian  seeks  to  establish  opinion,  or  "what  saith 
the  church?"  Thus  the  end  of  the  philosopher's  work  is 
truth;  but  of  the  theologian's,  dogma;  and  since  Merton 
saw  that  truth  and  truth  alone  could  save,  he  was  inclined 
to  side  with  those  who  sought  it,  as  with  those  who  acted 
from  knowledge,  rather  than  with  those  who  acted  from 
custom  or  habit.  In  other  words,  he  saw  the  meaning  of 
Aristotle's  statement,  and  was  forced  to  acknowledge 
its  truth: 

"  Aid  Kal  tovs  dpx'Tf/cTo^as  irepl  Zkolgtov  TLjXLUTipovs  Kal 
fxaWov  elSivat  vofAlfrofiep  tQv  xeiPl0T€Xv^"'  Ka'  ffotpurtpovs,  Sri  ras 
airias  tQiu  iroiovp.ei'cov  i'cracne,  tovs  5'  'u><T7rep  /ecu  tQiv  aipvxu3V  ^vla-- 
woitlv  p.iv  ovk  ei'Sora  5£  woielv  a  ttolci,  o'iov  Kaiei  to  irvp  .... 
d\X'    ov    Myovai     to     5ia    tL    irepl     ov5ev6s,    olov    5ia    tI    Oeppbv    t6    Tvp, 

dXXd  fxbvov  fin  depp-bv — Therefore,  we  consider  the  architect, 
in  every  case,  to  be  more  honorable,  to  know  more,  and  to 
be  wiser  than  the  manual  laborer,  because  he  knows  the 
causes  of  the  things  done;  while  the  mere  manual  laborer, 
as  one  of  the  soulless  creatures,  works  without  really  un- 
derstanding what  he  does.  He  wrorks  as  the  fire  burns.  He 
never  gives  a  real  reason  for  anything,  such  as,  why  is  fire 
hot;  he  simply  says  it  is  hot."  (Meta.  I.  1.  11 — 14).  Thus 
in  truth  is  it  with  the  theologian:  he  never  gives  a  sat- 
isfactory reason  or  cause  for  anything,  and,  as  a  rule,  nev- 
er seeks  it;  he  simply  says,  it  is  so. 

It  would  be,  perhaps,  too  much  to  say  that  Merton,  at 
this  time,  positively  disbelieved  any  of  the  fundamental 
principles  of  Christianity ;  but  it  is  certain  that  he  had  many 
doubts  concerning  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  the 
genuineness  of  miracles,  the  story  of  the  fall  of  man,  vica- 
rious atonement,  eternal  damnation,  and  salvation  by  faith. 

With  all  his  skepticism,  he  did  not  feel  any  more  un- 
certain about  the  groundwork  of  his  faith,  than  other 
young  ministers  with  whom  he  was  associated.    As  far  as 


58  FOOTPRINTS    OF    A  SOUL. 

he  could  understand,  the  difference  between  himself  and 
them  was  that  they  hushed  up  their  fears,  while  he  gave 
vent  to  them.  Yet,  knowing  that  the  morals  of  Christian- 
ity do  not  depend  on  its  dogmas,  he  thought  it  proper,  and 
believed  he  was  in  duty  bound,  to  be  a  minister  of  Christ. 
He  did  not  as  yet  know,  what  he  afterwards  learned,  that 
it  is  dogmas  rather  than  truth  or  reason,  which  the  church- 
es seek  to  enforce.  For  it  is  not  by  one's  own  holiness,  we 
are  told,  that  he  may  hope  to  be  saved,  but  only  by  that 
of  another;  not  by  a  harvest  of  righteousness,  the  product 
of  one's  own  heart,  but  by  the  imputed  righteousness  of 
Christ.  Surely  the  time  is  fast  approaching,  when  doctrine 
so  pregnant  with  injustice,  and  so  destructive  of  morality, 
will  be  heard  no  more. 

Merton  had  now  completed  a  three-years  course  of  study 
in  divinity;  his  only  duties  remaining  yet  unperformed  be- 
ing the  delivering  of  his  sermon  before  the  faculty,  and 
the  preparation  of  his  graduating  thesis.  He  chose  as  his 
text  for  the  former,  "And  his  rest  shall  be  glorious;"  and 
as  his  subject  for  the  latter,  "Science  and  Religion."  In 
the  preparation  and  delivery  of  the  sermon,  he  experienced 
but  little  difficulty;  for  it  is  surely  not  a  work  of  great  la- 
bor to  show  that  as  a  result  of  a  noble  and  pure  life,  a  sense 
of  satisfaction  and  security  possesses  the  soul,  such  as  noth- 
ing external  to  the  soul  can  give  or  take  away;  for  it  is  in- 
bred. Virtue,  the  highest  good  of  all,  is  its  own  reward. 
And  since  God  is  the  very  fountain  of  all  that  is  good, 
he  is  truly  the  fountain  of  virtue.  We  may  therefore  right- 
ly say,  that  the  rest  which  follows  a  life  of  virtue,  is  God's 
rest;  and,  in  this  sense,  that  "his   rest  shall  be  glorious." 

But  Merton  did  not  find  the  same  ease  in  the  prepara- 
tion of  his  thesis,  for  reading  at  his  graduation.  Every 
scientific  work  brought  him  proof  enough  of  the  antagon- 
ism between  science  and  religion.    Open  war  was  declared 


KNOWLEDGE   AND   BELIEF.  59 

on  every  page;  no  quarter  was  to  be  granted.  The  battle 
was  raging  fiercely;  and,  he  was  told,  it  would  never  cease, 
till  superstition,  which  was  everywhere  preached  in  the 
name  of  religion,  should  fall  to  rise  no  more.  He  could  not 
fail  to  see  that  ministers  were  using  every  artifice,  every 
trick  of  logic,  to  escape  the  questions  at  issue.  Nor  was  it 
the  less  important  matters  that  were  attacked:  the  very 
foundations  of  dogmatic  Christianity  were  being  stormed, 
on  all  sides,  by  the  heavy  artillery  of  science.  Nor  was  the 
fire  proceeding  from  one  or  a  few  fortresses  of  science;  but 
from  all  along  the  line  the  guns  belched  forth  their  de- 
structive missiles,  tearing  the  ranks  of  dogmatism  to  pieces. 
But  this  overpowering  charge  of  science,  clad  in  impenetra- 
ble armor,  and  equipped  with  all  the  means  of  warfare 
that  truth  has  at  its  command,  did  not  appear  to  Merton 
so  fraught  with  dire  destruction,  as  the  fact  that  the  very 
ranks  of  dogmatism  were  full  of  disorder,  confusion,  and 
disloyalty.  Face  to  face  with  its  ancient  and  most  dread 
enemy,  Science,  and  weakened  by  dissensions  and  fears 
within,  dogmatic  Christianity,  it  appeared  to  Merton, 
would  do  well,  if  ere  long  it  had  enough  of  loyal  soldiers 
to  bury  its  dead.  It  was  no  raw  recruits  that  dogmatism 
had  brought  into  the  field,  but  the  old  veterans  who  had 
borne  their  banners  victorious  in  many  a  battle  against 
freedom  and  truth.  Every  company  carried  its  own  ban- 
ner, as  well  to  make  each  soldier  the  more  readily  respon- 
sible to  his  own  commander  for  his  bravery,  as  to  make  its 
command  more  easy  and  efficient.  On  the  different  ban- 
ners, all  blood-stained,  and  many  now  lying  on  the  ground, 
befouled  with  dust,  Merton  read  the  names  of  their  divis- 
ions: "Special  Creation,"  "The  Immaculate  Conception," 
"The  Divinity  of  Christ,"  "Special  Inspiration,"  "Special 
Revelation,"  "Blood  Atonement,"  "Vicarious Sacrifice," 
"Imputed  Righteousness,"  "Salvation  by  Faith,"  "Elec- 


60  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

tion  to  Grace,"  "Reprobation,"  "Eternal  Damnation," 
and  "No  Other  Name."  While  some  of  these  companies 
were  stubbornly  resisting  the  attacks  of  science,  and  yield- 
ing their  ground  only  inch  by  inch;  others  were  fleeing  in 
all  directions,  heedless  of  their  commanders'  orders,  or  of 
the  dangers  of  their  brethren. 

In  his  thesis  Merton  labored  hard  to  repair  the  breaks 
he  observed  in  the  ranks  of  dogmatism,  and  to  raise  out  of 
the  dust  the  banners  of  the  various  defeated  legions;  but 
he  experienced  but  little  success.  In  his  heart,  however, 
he  was  not  sure  whether  the  precipitous  rout  of  the  allied 
forces  of  dogmatism  was  owing  to  bad  generalship,  or  to 
lack  of  power  and  virtue  in  the  legions  themselves.  He 
hoped  the  cause  would  be  found  to  be  in  the  former,  and 
not  in  the  latter;  and  that  under  better  generalship,  and 
spurred  by  the  memories  of  past  victories,  the  allied  forces 
of  dogmatism  might  yet  regain  their  lost  ground,  and  wave 
once  more  their  flag  victorious  and  triumphant.  So,  for 
the  present,  he  tried  to  quiet  his  fears,  and  hope  for  the 
best.  But  how  fleeting  is  such  a  quiet!  how  vain  is  such 
a  hope!  Merton  had  beheld  a  glimpse  of  the  truth.  He 
was  passing  out  of  the  house  of  bondage;  and,  however 
slow,  in  due  time  such  souls  are  sure  to  come  into  the 
Promised  L,and. 

To  Merton  the  sweetest  of  all  names  was  the  name  of 
Jesus;  and  surely  no  sweeter  name  can  be  pronounced  by 
the  lover  of  righteousness.  But  the  truth  was  not  yet  fully 
grasped  by  him,  that  it  was  this  sweet  Jesus  who  found  in 
the  organized  church  his  most  inveterate  enemy:  it  was  the 
church  that  condemned  and  crucified  him.  And  as  often 
as  the  mind  of  Jesus  has  been  manifested  in  the  church,  so 
often  has  the  human  being  who  bore  it,  been  subjected  to 
persecution  and  frequently  put  to  death.  The  full  know- 
ledge of  this  truth  was  to  come  to  Merton  afterwards.  For 


KNOWLEDGE   AND   BELIEF.  6 1 

the  present  he  thought  it  right,  not  only  to  offer  himself 
to  God  a  living  sacrifice,  as  was  his  most  bounden  duty; 
but  also  to  the  orthodox  church,  as  the  only  authoritative 
expression  of  the  voice  of  God.  The  thought  of  his  heart 
was  most  truly  expressed  in  the  following  little  poem, 
which  he  found,  at  the  time,  in  a  periodical: 

Any  little  corner,  Lord,  within  thy  vineyard  wide, 
Where  Thou  bidst  me  work  for  Thee,  there  would  I  abide; 
Miracle  of  saving  grace,  that  Thou  givest  me  a  place 

Anywhere. 

Where  we  pitch  our  nightly  tent,  surely  matters  not, 
If  the  day  for  Thee  is  spe*  t.  blessed  is  the  spot. 
Quickly  we  the  tent  may  fold,  cheerful  march  through  storm 

[and  cold, 
With  thy  care,  anywhere. 

All  along  the  wilderness  let  us  keep  our  sight 

On  the  moving  pillar  fixed,  constant  day  and  night, 

Willing  led  by  Thee  to  roam 

Anywhere. 


CHAPTER  VI. 
Self-Deception. 

And  ye  shall  know  that  the  Lord  of  hosts  hath  sent  me. 

{ZccJiaria/i.) 

Just  before  taking  his  degree  in  divinity,  Merton,  like 
all  other  young  men  similarly  situated,  was  earnestly  con- 
sidering the  question  where  best  to  begin  his  chosen  work ; 
and  in  seeking  the  solution  of  this  problem,  he  was  great- 
ly perplexed.  In  this  state  of  mind  he  feil  into  conversa- 
tion one  day  with  Mr.  Carter. 

"Where  will  you  begin  your  labors,  Mr.  Carter?"  asked 
Merton. 

"I  have  long  felt  a  drawing  toward  Indiana,"  he  re- 
plied. "I  wrote  a  presiding  elder  there,  who  urges  me  to 
come.  He  says  young  men  are  wanted  there  full  of  power 
and  the  Holy  Ghost.  He  also  mentions  a  very  desirable 
vacancy,  in  a  nice  town  of  several  thousand  people,  having 
a  salary  to  begin  with  of  not  less  than  ten  hundred.  I  have 
made  the  matter  a  subject  of  long  and  earnest  prayer;  and 
I  feel  quite  sure  that  the  Holy  Ghost  draws  me  that  way. 
It  is  a  great  blessing,  Bro.  Merton,  that  we  are  not  left  to 
ourselves  to  decide  such  matters.  He  that  is  with  us,  has 
promised  to  lead  us  into  all  truth,  and  into  the  way  we 
should  go.  Yes,  I  am  going  to  Indiana.  It  is  a  good  open- 
ing. Besides,  I  can  not  disobey  the  voice  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Where,  Bro.  Merton,  do  you  feel  the  voice  of  God 
calling  you?' ' 

"I  have  always  felt  it  my  duty,  Mr.  Carter,  long  and 
earnestly  to  consider  such  important  matters  before  mak- 
ing any  decision.  Even  then  I  know  mistakes  are  likely 
to  happen;  for  we  are  very  fallible  creatures.     But  I  am 

02 


SELF-DECEPTION.  63 

sure  God  has  given  us  our  reason  with  which  we  should 
weigh  all  things  for  and  against,  and  determine  the  results 
as  best  we  can.  The  farmer  may  sow  wheat  or  plant  corn, 
and  he  will  choose  to  do  this  or  that,  as  being,  in  his  judg- 
ment, the  most  beneficial  to  him.  He  may  be  a  very  good 
man;  but  if  also  a  wise  one,  he  will  not  expect  an  answer 
from  God  to  the  question,  whether  to  choose  this  or  that 
is  the  better.  The  miner  seeking  to  strike  a  vein  of  ore, 
may  cross-cut  here  or  there,  •  and  according  to  his  skill 
in  mining,  will  be,  in  general,  the  correctness  of  his  deter- 
mination. I  have  never  heard  of  a  company  who  would 
choose,  as  the  superintendent  of  their  mine,  a  man  of  prayer 
in  preference  to  a  man  experienced  in  mining.  In  our  class- 
es, Mr.  Carter,  I  have  often  heard  the  professors  advising 
you  more  thoroughly  to  study  the  lessons  assigned  you; 
but  I  have  never  heard  them  advising  you  to  pray  over 
them." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,  Bro.  Merton,"  he  replied. 
"Do  you  intend  to  say,  you  do  not  believe  in  the  call  of 
the  Holy  Ghost?" 

"I  will  first  ask  you,  Mr.  Carter,  to  define  the  word, 
'call'.  What  do  you  mean  by  it?  Does  God  write  you  a 
letter?  send  a  personal  message  to  you?  talk  face  to  face? 
or  is  it  a  conclusion  you  arrive  at  from  certain  mental  im- 
pressions?" 

"I  mean  by  a  call  from  the  Holy  Ghost,  a  feeling  in 
my  heart  that  such  and  such  is  the  truth." 

"How  do  you  come  to  such  conclusions,  Mr.  Carter? 
Do  you  recognize  the  truth  you  speak  of  through  your 
heart,  or  through  your  intelligence?" 

' '  I  recognize  its  truth  through  my  heart  bearing  wit- 
ness to  it." 

"Very  strange,  Mr.  Carter.  I  have  heard  that  man's 
heart  is  the  great  centre  of  the  arterial  system,  that  it  sup- 


64  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

plies  the  whole  body  with  fresh  blood  to  the  end  of  life; 
but  I  never  knew  before  that  it  pumped  brains  as  well 
as  blood,  or  that  it  was  supposed  to  be  the  seat  of  intelli- 
gence. ' ' 

"I  did  not  say  it  was  the  seat  of  intelligence." 

"Did  you  not  say,  Mr.  Carter,  that  you  recognize  cer- 
tain truths  through  your  heart?" 
"Yes,  I  did;  but  that  is  different."  • 

' '  Is  not  recognition  the  work  of  intelligence?  Is  it  not 
an  intelligent  act?' ' 

"Yes." 

"If  recognition  is  the  work  of  intelligence,  and  intelli- 
gence is  not  a  work  of  the  heart;  how,  then,  can  recogni- 
tion be  a  work  of  the  heart?" 

"I  hardly  understand  what  you  are  trying  to  get  at. 
One  thing  I  know:  I  believe  in  a  call." 

"Believe  on,  Mr.  Carter.  I  presume  our  little  talk  will 
do  us  no  harm.  May  your  call  be  a  good  one.  For  myself 
I  can  only  say,  I  hope  I  may  choose  wisely.  I  am  sure  I 
would  go  wherever  I  thought  I  could  do  the  most  good." 

"Very  good,  Bro.  Merton;  but  I  am  very  sorry  to  know 
that  you  do  not  believe  in  the  call  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 

"I  thought  we  had  done,  Mr.  Carter;  but  permit  me 
to  ask,  how  you  distinguish  an  impression  made  by  the 
Holy  Ghost  from  that  made  by  any  other  power?  You  see 
a  piece  of  land  having  good  surroundings,  and  believe  it 
will  soon  advance  in  price.  You  then  have  an  impression 
that  it  will  be  wise  to  invest.  If  a  clerk  hears  of  a  good 
clerkship,  in  a  thriving  town,  he  has  an  impression  that 
it  would  be  good  to  accept  it.  Now,  I  wish  to  know  in 
what  sense  do  these  impressions  differ  from  that  of  which 
you  speak?" 

"I  suppose  an  impression  is  an  impression.  I  do  not 
suppose  they  differ  at  all." 


SELF-DECEPTION.  65 

"Then,  if  they  are  the  same,  how  can  you  be  sure  that 
the  impression  of  your  call  has  not  been  produced  by  other 
powers  than  the  Holy  Ghost?" 

"Good-day,  Bro.  Merton.  You  go  your  way,  and  I'll 
go  mine.  Let  us  see  who  will  get  there." 

Thus  these  two  young  men  parted,  the  one  full  of  love 
for  the  truth,  the  other  full  of  fanaticism  and  ignorance. 
The  little  education  Mr.  Carter  had  received,  was  had  in 
the  theological  school — a  poor  place  to  obtain  information. 
Nor  must  it  be  supposed  that  Mr.  Carter  was  peculiarly 
faithful  or  devout.  Indeed,  in  the  judgment  of  many  of 
the  students,  he  was  morally  unfit  for  the  work  of  the 
ministry. 

Merton  firmly  believed  in  a  living  God;  and  in  the  Ho- 
ly Ghost,  as  the  same  Person  acting  on  the  minds  of  intel- 
ligent beings,  and  raising  them  into  a  higher  life.  He  be- 
lieved that  prayer  serves  to  strengthen  and  sanctify  the 
soul,  in  the  same  manner  as  food  serves  to  strengthen  and 
fortify  the  body.  But  as  he  did  not  believe  that  God  ever 
directly  accomplishes  for  man,  what  food  is  known  to  ac- 
complish ;  so  had  he  grave  doubts  that  God  ever  interferes 
with  the  natural  order  of  things,  notwithstanding  prayer 
and  supplication.  But  by  "natural  order"  it  must  not  be 
supposed  that  Merton  understood  anything  low  or  com- 
mon. In  his  heart  he  was  inclined  to  believe  that  nature 
is  the  grand  totality  in  which  God  is  ever  manifesting 
himself;  and  that  the  laws  of  nature  are  only  the  constant 
manner  in  which  the  universally  present,  and  immutable, 
Divine  Being  operates  in  it.  As  man  is  nothing  apart 
from  his  body,  .so  God  is  nothing  apart  from  nature. 
Mind  and  body  make  man;  so  the  material  universe,  and 
the  soul  which  operates  it,  make  God.  He  could  not  help 
coming  to  this  conclusion.  For  if  God  is  infinite,  He  can 
not  be  absent  from  any  point  of  space,  nor  atom  of  matter, 


66  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

and  if  God  can  not  be  absent  from  any  atom  of  matter,  He 
can  not  be  essentially  different  from  nature.  Let  us  take 
the  least  possible  portion  of  nature,  a  mere  atom  of  so- 
called  matter.  What  have  we?  We  answer,  a  mere  point 
of  force,  an  infinitely  small  particle  of  nature.  It  is  evident 
that  two  infinitely  small  points  can  not  occupy  the  same 
space,  at  the  same  time;  and  that  since  God  can  not  be 
apart  from  any  portion  of  nature,  the  infinitely  small  por- 
tion of  nature  we  are  now  considering,  must  be  of  the  Di- 
vine Essence.  With  Merton,  therefore,  nature  was  a  liv- 
ing thing,  a  divine  organism,  the  garment,  covering,  dwell- 
ing-place, or  tabernacle  of  God. 

Thus  if  Merton  doubted  that  God  ever  acts  outside  of 
the  order  of  nature,  it  was  because  he  could  not  believe 
that  God  is  a  changeable  Being.  And  since  it  is  the  nat- 
ural order,  that  for  whatever  man  possesses,  be  it  money, 
power,  or  wisdom,  he  must  labor  in  some  way  or  other, 
until  he  obtains  it;  Merton  could  not  understand,  how  it 
would  be  reasonable  to  expect  from  God  such  interference 
with  the  natural  order,  as  Mr.  Carter  claimed.  Merton  had 
firm  faith  in  prayer.  It  was  a  soul-food  without  which  he 
had  never  lived.  But  he  thought  of  prayer,  not  as  a  means 
of  compelling,  or  coercing  God;  but  as  a  means  of  com- 
pelling, coercing,  or  educating  himself,  better  to  interpret 
the  mind  or  will  of  God.  Thus  by  prayer  he  might  be  en- 
abled to  form  a  better  judgment,  where  and  how  to  begin 
his  work;  but  he  doubted  that  God  would  grant  the  min- 
ister information  on  terms  easier  than  those  on  which  He 
grants  skill  to  the  mechanic,  wisdom  to  the  philosopher, 
or  right  management  to  the  farmer.  He  knew  well  it  is  a 
peculiar  favor  the  minister  frequently  claims;  but  he  was 
also  convinced  there  was  no  reason  for  such  claim.  Like 
many  similar  superstitions  that  are  beyond  the  pale  of  proof 
or  absolute  disproof,  it  is  acquiesced  in  by  the  ignorant ; 


SELF-DECEPTION.  67 

but  the  intelligent  reject  it,  as  wholly  without  warrant,  and 
contrary  to  all  known  facts.  Nor  are  the  ignorant  ever  con- 
sistent in  their  belief.  When  seemingly  to  their  interests, 
they  avowedly  believe  in  such  miraculous  interposition; 
but  when  not  to  their  interests,  they  in  reality  reject  it. 
This  was  true  of  Mr.  Carter.  It  was  only  a  few  days  after 
the  conversation  given  above,  when  Merton  again  met  Mr. 
Carter,  who  said: 

"How  is  your  thesis,  Bro.  Merton?  I  suppose  you  feel 
satisfied  that  you  are  prepared  to  deliver  it  all  right?' ' 

' '  I  have  put  much  time  on  it, "  Merton  replied.  "A  day 
or  two  more,  and  you  will  know  more  about  it  than  I  can 
now  tell  you.   I  suppose  you  are  all  right  with  yours?" 

"Yes,  I'm  all  right;  but  I  chose  a  very  difficult  sub- 
ject— 'The  Workings  and  Witness-bearing  Power  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.'  However,  it  is  something  that  young  men, 
going  out  into  the  active  field,  would  do  well  to  contemp- 
late; and  I  thought  it  a  good  opportunity  to  say  something 
on  the  subject.  The  house,  you  know,  is  sure  to  be  crowded 
on  Commencement  Day.  There  will  be  no  lack  of  hear- 
ers; and  the  good  that  may  be  accomplished,  can  not  be 
overestimated. ' ' 

"It  is  indeed  a  fine  subject,  especially  when  elucidated 
by  a  person  acquainted  with  the  matter.  With  your  gestic- 
ulating power,  oratorical  ability,  and  splendid  erudition, 
we  may  all  look  for  something  unusual;  and  I  do  not  think 
any  of  us  will  be  disappointed.  A  man  of  your  talents, 
Mr.  Carter,  should  find  a  fine  opening  in  the  field  some- 
where. It  is  a  pity  that  you  should  be  buried  in  some  ob- 
scure country  village,  or  with  people  that  can  never  ap- 
preciate the  richness  and  depth  of  your  thought.  It  may 
be  that  God  will  bring  things  to  pass  so  that  you  will  find 
a  field  worthy  of  your  piety  and  ability.  Let  us  hope  it 
may  be  so." 


68  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

"Thank  you,  Bro.  Merton,  thank  you;  I  have  good 
news  on  that  subject.  Only  yesterday  I  accepted  a  call  to 
W.,  in  Kansas.  It  is  a  nourishing  town;  the  church  has 
a  very  nice  stone  parsonage;  the  people  are  united,  and 
full  of  the  spirit;  and  they  offer  me  twelve  hundred  a  year. 
I  am  about  to  be  married;  and  the  call  is  very  acceptable 
to  the  young  lady  I  am  to  make  my  wife.  She  is  quite  re- 
fined, has  been  well  brought  up;  and  I  would  not  like  to 
take  her  into  some  little  out-of-the-way  place.  I  am  sure 
that  I  feel  quite  thankful  to  the  Holy  Spirit  for  so  acting, 
on  me  and  others,  as  to  bring  about  this  very  desirable 
opening.   I  suppose  you  have  settled  on  your  future  field?' ' 

"No,  sir,  I  am  sorry  to  say.  I  have  been  waiting,  how- 
ever, and  longing  to  receive  such  aid  as  you  profess  to 
have  at  hand.  It  may  be  that  the  Spirit  does  not  come  my 
way.  Of  one  thing,  however,  I  am  sure:  I  should  be  glad 
if  He  would  do  for  me  what,  you  say,  He  has  done  for 
you.  I  wonder  how  is  it,  that  some  feel  so  certain  of  things, 
while  others  do  not?  You  remember  how  uncertain  the 
great  and  holy  Socrates  was.  And  even  Christ  said:  'Fath- 
er, if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me. '  It  would 
seem  that  Christ  did  not  know,  what  the  future  was  to 
bring  him.  I  do  wonder  how  these  things  are  so.  Surely, 
God  does  not  make  fish  of  one,  and  flesh  of  another!  Sure- 
ly, He  is  the  Father  of  all,  and  treats  all  with  the  same 
tender  care. ' ' 

"O  yes,  undoubtedly,  Bro.  Merton.  But  it  may  be  that 
some  have  missed  their  calling.  Every  man  is  made  for  a 
special  work.  If  a  man  is  outside  of  his  proper  work,  God 
will  not  help  him  in  the  way  that  I  mean ;  only  the  Holy 
Ghost  assures  us  that  we  have  chosen  the  work  God  wills 
us  to  do. ' ' 

"So  you  have  settled  on  your  future  field,  Mr.  Carter. 
You  have  a  call  of  twelve  hundred,  with  a  nice  stone  par- 


SELF-DECEPTION.  69 

sonage,  and  a  fine  people,  in  a  nice  town, — the  very  place 
for  your  future  wife.  What  salary  were  you  offered  in  In- 
diana? You  remember  you  spoke  of  it  to  me  a  few  days  ago. ' ' 

"I  was  offered  ten  hundred  there." 

"Was  there  no  nice  parsonage  in  connection  with  the 
place?" 

"No;  that  place  had  no  parsonage.  The  minister  who 
went  there,  would  have  to  pay  his  own  rent." 

"Was  not  the  town  a  flourishing  one?  were  the  people 
not  well  united?" 

"Yes,  it  was  a  good  town.  The  people  are  not,  how- 
ever, so  well  united  there,  as  where  I  am  now  going. ' ' 

"So,  then,  as  I  understand  you,  Mr.  Carter,  you  pre- 
fer going  to  the  place  you  have  just  accepted,  because  the 
church  is  better  united,  offers  a  better  salary,  has  a  nice 
parsonage,  and  is  more  agreeable  to  your  future  wife. 
These  are  very  material  reasons  indeed.  Your  choice,  I 
suppose,  was  determined  by  the  will  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
who  reveals  himself  within  you." 

"I  think  so,  Bro.  Merton.  I  feel  that  God  is  leading 
metoW." 

"Mr.  Carter,  do  you  imagine  that  God  can  will  one 
thing  to-day,  and  another  to-morrow!  Do  you  suppose  He 
has  forgotten  that  He  advised  you,  a  few  days  ago,  to  go 
to  Indiana!" 

"No,  sir,  I  do  not;  but  God  acts  according  to  the 
needs  of  things.  The  last  few  days  the  conditions  of  things 
have  changed.  What  was  good  for  me  then,  is  not  good 
for  me  now. ' ' 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Carter.  How  very  useful  it  must 
be  for  one  to  have  a  god  so  accomodating,  so  readily  ad- 
justable to  circumstances!  Let  us  hope,  if  your  call  is  what 
you  want,  that  he  will  not  forget  to-morrow,  that  you  are 
making  arrangements  to-day  to  go  to  W." 


70  FOOTPRINTS   OF    A   SOUL. 

The  young  men  parted  never  to  meet  again.  Merton 
was  greatly  offended  at  the  thought  that  a  man  calling  him- 
self a  minister  of  the  majestic  Christ,  could  thus  make  God 
a  tool,  or  bring  the  Divine  Majesty  down  to  the  level  of 
low  and  changeable  man.  And  yet  the  logic  of  Mr.  Carter 
is  the  logic  of  most  pulpits  of  the  land.  The  great  weak- 
ness of  Mr.  Carter,  lay  in  his  inability  to  hide  more  effect- 
ually the  erroneous  nature  of  his  views: 

"The  world  is  still  deceived  with  ornament. 
In  law,  what  plea  so  tainted  and  corrupt, 
But,  being  seasoned  with  a  gracious  voice, 
Obscures  the  show  of  evil?  In  religion, 
What  damned  error,  but  some  sober  brow 
Will  bless  it,  and  approve  it  with  a  text, 
Hiding  the  grossness  with  fair  ornament? 
There  is  no  vice  so  simple,  but  assumes 
Some  mark  of  virtue  on  its  outward  parts." 

(  The  Merchant  of  Venice^ 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   GREATEST   IS   CHARITY. 

Nate  dea,  quo  fata  trahunt   rctra/iunfque,   sequamur ,' 
3uidquid  crit,  suferanda  omnis  for  tuna  f  cranio  est — 
Goddess-born,  wherever  the  fates   may  lead,  forward  or  back- 
ward, let  us  follow.  Whatever  may  happen,  every  fortune  is  sure 
to  be  overcome  by  him  who  endures  it.       (  Vergil:  Aen.  V.  70Q.) 

YX/HILE  in  the  seminary,  Merton's  attention  had  been 
called  to  the  wants  of  the  church  in  the  state  of  Kan- 
sas; and  shortly  after  finishing  his  divinity  course,  he  cor- 
responded with  a  bishop  concerning  the  propriety  of  going 
there.  The  bishop  answered  his  letter  very  fully,  and  spoke 
of  a  church,  in  a  certain  city  of  that  state,  needing  a  pas- 
tor; and  advised  Merton,  at  the  same  time,  to  write  the 
presiding  elder  of  the  district,  where  the  church  was  sit- 
uated. Having  addressed  the  latter  concerning  the  matter, 
Merton  received  an  answer  to  the  effect,  that  the  vacancy 
had  been  for  some  time  filled.  While  unable  to  give  him 
that  appointment,  the  elder  urged  Merton  to  come  to  Kan- 
sas, filling  his  letter  with  the  most  glowing  accounts  of  the 
country.  The  advantages  to  be  had  in  coming  there,  he 
said,  were  very  many:  the  climate  was  unequalled;  the 
people  were  reaching  out  their  hands;  and  the  possibilities 
for  the  minister  could  not  be  surpassed.  A  few  days  after- 
wards, Merton  received  a  letter  from  another  presiding  eld- 
er, of  the  same  state,  offering  him  the  choice  of  two,  as 
he  said,  very  desirable  appointments. 

At  first  Mrs.  Merton  was  very  unwilling  to  go  so  far 
west;  but  after  a  little  persuasion,  she  consented,  hoping 
with  Merton  that  the  voice  that  called   him,  was  the  voice 

of  God.   But  to  her  the  parting  with  her  parents  was  paiu- 

71 


72  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

ful  in  the  extreme.  It  was  far  away  she  was  to  go;  and  the 
wife  of  a  minister  had  no  money  to  waste  on  pleasure  trips 
or  excursions.  It  was  not,  therefore,  probable  that  she 
would  again  see  them  for  a  long  time.  However,  prepar- 
ations were  soon  made.  They  were  rushing  towards  their 
destination,  and,  in  the  course  of  two  or  three  days,  found 
themselves  in  the  city  of  Atchison.  Here  they  were  met 
by  the  minister  of  the  town,  who  gave  Merton  every  pos- 
sible assistance,  manifesting  great  kindness,  and  showing 
much  interest  in  his  welfare.  Leaving  the  residence  of  this 
hospitable  minister,  in  a  few  hours  Merton  arrived  at  the 
end  of  his  journey,  late  in  the  evening.  The  next  morning 
was  very  beautiful;  and  it  was  indeed  a  magnificent  sight 
that  met  his  gaze.  Vast  plains  stretched  away,  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  see;  standing  fields  of  tall  corn  indicated  the 
richness  of  the  soil;  and  a  beautiful  stream  of  water  be- 
spoke other  possible  industries.  The  sun  rose  in  most  glo- 
rious splendor;  the  sky  was  cloudless;  a  cool  and  gentle 
breeze  came  from  the  south-east:  indeed,  both  heaven  and 
earth  seemed  to  have  done  their  best  to  give  to  Merton  a 
royal  welcome. 

While  at  the  residence  of  the  elder,  however,  Merton 
discovered  that  that  gentleman  had  broken  his  promise — 
that  the  appointment  which  in  his  letter  he  had  promised 
to  keep  for  Merton,  had  been  given  to  another.  When  asked 
for  an  explanation  of  this,  the  elder's  excuse  was  that  he 
knew  which  was  the  better  of  the  two  appointments,  and  had 
according  to  his  promise,  reserved  it  for  Merton.  The  judg- 
ment of  the  minister,  and  of  many  others  who  knew  the 
both  appointments,  did  not,  however,  agree  with  that  of 
the  elder;  for  they  insisted  that  the  elder  had  acted  with 
bad  faith,  in  filling  the  better  appointment  a  little  before 
Merton 's  arrival.  But  being  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land, 
Merton  thought  it  best  to  make  no   remonstrance;  but  in 


THE   GREATEST   IS   CHARITY.  73 

his  heart  he  wondered  why  an  elder  could  act  so  dishonor- 
ably. Nevertheless,  he  was  greatly  troubled;  for  he  knew 
too  well  that  the  remaining  appointment  was  one  full  of 
difficulties;  and  he  doubted  that  it  could  supply  Mrs.  Mer- 
ton  and  himself  with  even  the  necessaries  of  life.  But  he 
was  not  to  be  easily  discouraged.  Crowns  of  glory  follow 
as  the  reward  of  wearing  crowns  of  thorns. 

Previous  to  departing  for  his  field  of  labor,  Merton  and 
his  wife  had  been  invited  to  spend  a  few  days  at  the  resi- 
dence of  Mrs.  Wright.  This  lady  was  extremely  corpulent. 
When  she  laughed,  she  laughed  all  over.  She  was  about 
five  feet  three  inches  tall,  and  weighed  not  less  than  four 
hundred  pounds.  Her  neck,  short  by  nature,  was  made 
to  appear  still  shorter  by  the  very  fleshy  condition  of  the 
shoulders  and  bust.  Indeed,  the  head  upon  her  shoulders 
appeared  not  unlike  a  hen  sitting  in  her  nest — almost  cov- 
ered up  by  the  surroundings.  But  she  was  a  noble-hearted 
and  generous  lady.  Never  had  Merton  or  his  wife  been 
more  hospitably  entertained  than  by  Mrs.  Wright;  and  it 
was  with  many  forebodings  of  evil,  that  he  left  the  house 
of  this  genuine  Christian,  to  face  the  difficulties  of  his  un- 
known appointment.  But  he  was  full  of  work,  and  full  of 
hope;  and  neither  he  nor  his  wife  could  doubt  that  all 
things  would  be  well.  Besides,  the  presiding  elder  had  as- 
sured them  over  and  over  that  a  very  hearty  welcome  was 
awaiting  them,  where  they  were  going.  "When  you  ar- 
rive at  Micropolis,"  he  said,  "you  will  find  Bro.  Truthful 
waiting  at  the  depot  for  you.  He  has  made  all  arrange- 
ments, and  everything  will  be  satisfactory." 

Merton  was  not  long  in  going  to  Micropolis,  the  prin- 
cipal town  of  his  charge.  He  found  the  depot  in  its  place; 
but  the  "good  brother"  who  was  to  receive  him,  was  not 
there.  After  making  some  inquiries,  however,  he  found 
Mr.  Truthful  without  much    difficulty.     He  was   greatly 


74  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

surprised  to  hear  that  he  was  expected  to  meet  Merton  at 
the  depot.  "I  assure  you,"  he  said,  "this  is  the  first  I 
have  known  of  your  coming.  The  elder  has  sent  me  neith- 
er letter  nor  word  about  the  matter;  and  I  do  not  know 
what  right  he  had  to  make  such  statements  to  you.  It  is, 
however,  a  pleasure  for  me  to  know  you,  and  I  give  you 
a  hearty  welcome." 

Merton  had  stated  in  his  letters  to  the  presiding  elder, 
that  wherever  he  went,  it  would  be  necessary  that  room 
and  board  should  be  provided  for  himself  and  wife;  and 
the  elder  assured  him  that  this  matter  would  be  provided 
for.  Mr.  Truthful,  however,  had  heard  nothing  of  this; 
nor  could  he  think  of  any  place  in  the  town,  where  ac- 
ceptable board  and  room  could  be  had.  "The  town,  Mr. 
Merton,"  he  said,  "is  new;  and  the  people,  being  without 
much  money,  build  themselves  very  small  homes,  in  order 
to  save  expenses.  There  are  but  few  families  who  have 
rooms  for  the  accommodation  of  strangers  or  guests.  All 
that  I  can  do  for  you,  you  may  rely  upon  it,  I  shall  do.  I 
will  go  with  you  now,  and  see  what  can  be  done. ' ' 

At  first  they  went  to  the  residence  of  a  good  member, 
a  Mrs.  Brady,  who  said:  "I  would  be  so  glad  to  have  you 
with  us,  Bro.  Merton;  nothing  could  be  more  pleasing 
than  the  company  of  yourself  and  wife.  My  house,  how- 
ever, is  already  full  and  running  over;  I  couldn't  find  room 
even  for  my  mother. ' '  They  then  went  to  the  house  of 
a  Mrs.  Webb,  who  was  not  a  member  of  any  church,  but 
had  enough  humanity  in  her  to  invite  them  to  stay,  and 
take  dinner.  "Although  I  have  no  spare  room  in  my 
house,"  she  said,  "and  am  unable  to  have  the  pleasure  of 
taking  you  to  board  with  us,  I  must  insist  on  your  taking 
dinner  with  me,  especially  as  it  is  so  near  dinner  hour; 
and  I  am  sure  Mrs.  Merton  will  be  glad  to  rest  a  little 
while." 


THE    GREATEST    IS    CHARITY.  75 

After  dinner  they  continued  their  search  for  room  and 
board;  but  no  acceptable  place  could  be  found,  except  at 
the  small  hotel.  There  the  charges  were  so  high,  that  Mer- 
ton  feared  his  expected  income  would  not  enable  him  to 
assume  the  responsibility  of  paying  the  bills;  nor  was  such 
a  place,  for  other  reasons,  agreeable  to  a  man  of  Merton's 
character. 

Having  failed  in  their  search,  Mr.  Truthful  pressed 
Merton  to  come  and  stay  with  him  for  a  few  days,  until 
some  other  arrangement  could  be  made.  Merton  felt  the 
invitation  had  been  sincerely  made,  and  he  therefore  glad- 
ly accepted  it.  Mr.  Truthful  was  a  prosperous  farmer,  and 
resided  about  a  mile  from  the  town.  His  wife  was  found  to 
be  a  most  kind-hearted  woman,  ready  to  submit,  for  the 
sake  of  her  guests,  to  great  discomfort.  But  such  a  nature 
was  the  last  in  the  world  Merton  could  impose  upon. 

The  evening  was  spent  in  earnest  conversation  as  to 
the  needs  and  conditions  of  the  appointments.  Merton  dis- 
covered that  several  ministers,  some  with  very  fair  ability, 
had  been  laboring  there,  but  with  little  success.  The  sta- 
tions, four  or  five  in  number,  and  separated  from  four  to 
ten  miles  one  from  another,  had  but  very  few  members, 
most  of  whom  were  extremely  poor,  scarcely  able  to  sup- 
port themselves,  and  not  at  all  inclined  to  give  of  their 
penury  toward  the  support  of  the  preacher  in  charge.  The 
ministers  who  had  been  stationed  there  had  been  literally 
starved  out;  and  most  of  them  had  left,  leaving  many  debts 
behind  them.  The  evening's  conversation  brought  no  en- 
couragement to  Merton;  the  information  he  obtained  was 
not  suitable  for  a  sedative,  after  a  day's  fruitless  labor. 

On  retiring,  Merton  was  greatly  pained  to  find  that 
the  room  assigned  himself  and  wife,  was  that  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Truthful;  and  he  determined  that  come  what  would, 
he  could  not  allow   himself  to  be   the   recipient  of  favors 


76  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A  SOUL. 

that  brought  such  discomfort  on  his  host.  In  the  niorning 
he  found  that  the  family  of  Mr.  Truthful  was  a  very  large 
one,  and  that  there  were  not  sufficient  rooms  for  their  com  - 
fort,  even  when  all  were  given  up  to  the  exclusive  use  of 
the  family.  This  knowledge  settled  Merton  in  his  deter- 
mination not  to  stay  there  another  night. 

In  order  to  make  some  excuse  for  leaving,  without  giv- 
ing offence  to  the  kind-hearted  people  who  had  so  hospit- 
ably received  them,  Merton,  after  breakfast,  told  them  it 
was  absolutely  necessary  that  he  should  find  some  perma- 
nent boarding-place, — a  place  where  he  could  set  up  his 
books,  and  have  the  same  for  use.  He  assured  them  that 
he  could  never  forget  their  kindness;  but  that  even  apart 
from  the  necessity  of  seeking  some  permanent  place  to 
board  and  room,  he  felt  sure  that  their  remaining  there 
must  inconvenience  the  family;  and  that  this,  he  would  not 
consent  to  do. 

"I  am  sorry,"  said  Mr.  Truthful,  "that  we  are  no  bet- 
ter prepared  to  accommodate  you  than  we  are.  To  such  as 
we  have,  you  are  entirely  welcome,  no  matter  what  dis- 
comfort or  inconvenience  it  brings  us.  If  you  can  stand 
what  we  have,  we  will  get  along  somehow.  Mrs.  Truth- 
ful and  I  are  used  to  these  little  things." 

"Mr.  Truthful,"  said  Merton,  "I  am  sure  your  good- 
ness would  lead  you  to  do  anything  for  us;  but  comfort  at 
such  sacrifice  we  could  not  allow  ourselves  to  receive. ' ' 

"It  is  a  shame,"  replied  Mr.  Truthful,  "that  the  elder 
did  not  acquaint  me  with  the  fact  of  your  coming.  I  feel 
sure  that  had  I  known  of  it  in  time,  something  might  have 
been  done.  It  is  not  very  encouraging  to  you,  Mr.  Mer- 
ton; and  I  feel  greatly  pained  at  the  condition  of  things. 
I  will  see,  however,  what  can  be  done  to-day;  but  I  have 
no  great  expectations  from  this  people.  In  the  past  I  have 
frequently  entertained  hopes,  only  to  have  them  every  one* 


THE    GREATEST    IS    CHARITY.  77 

blasted.  I  have  had  many  bitter  disappointments  since  I 
have  been  living  here.  The  people  are  quite  willing  to 
have  a  minister  among  them,  provided  some  one  else  keep 
and  support  him ;  but  they  are  scarcely  willing  to  assume 
any  responsibility  themselves. ' ' 

"Never  mind,  Mr.  Truthful,"  replied  Merton,  "I  am 
not  discouraged.  I  can  not  believe  but  that  all  will  be  right 
in  time.  A  few  souls  like  you  in  the  work,  and  it  will  soon 
be  moving.  If  we  can  not  find  accommodations  here,  we 
will  proceed  to  Littleville.  It  is  only  four  or  five  miles 
distant,  I  believe;  and  if  we  are  obliged  to  do  so,  I  think 
we  can  walk  that  far. " 

After  a  search  of  two  or  three  hours,  very  good  rooms 
were  found  at  the  residence  of  Mrs.  Taylor;  and  Merton 
began  to  make  preparations  to  go  there.  Just  as  soon  as 
he  thought  the  difficulty  for  the  present  settled,  some  two 
or  three  of  the  good  church  members  came  hastening,  and 
said:  "Do  not  go  there  for  the  world.  It  will  ruin  you, 
and  disgrace  the  church.  You  are  a  stranger  here,  and  do 
not  know  her  character.  We  therefore  feel  it  our  duty  to 
put  you  on  your  guard.  We  are  sure  if  you  go  there,  you 
will  give  unpardonable  offence  to  the  people  of  the  church. 
No  decent  person,  in  the  town,  would  stay  over  night  at 
her  house.  We  are  sorry  to  have  to  say  anything  about 
this  business;  but,  as  members  of  the  church,  we  feel  it 
our  duty." 

Thus  ended  Merton 's  last  attempt  to  find  board  or  ac- 
commodations in  the  town  of  Micropolis.  Among  all  the 
members  of  the  church,  there  had  not  been  found  one  who 
could  accommodate  them  with  rooms  and  board;  and  none 
of  the  members,  with  the  exception  of  good  Mr.  Truthful, 
had  offered  them  a  night's  shelter.  Strangers  they  were 
in  a  strange  land,  homeless  among  their  own;  and  no  man 
said  to  them,  "come,  tarry  thou   with  me."      Merton  was 


78  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

heart-sick;  but  the  thought  of  his  duty   gave  him  courage 
to  persevere. 

Having  resolved  to  proceed  to  Littleville,  Merton  has- 
tened to  a  livery-stable,  in  search  of  a  conveyance;  but  none 
could  be  found.  Nothing  was  now  left  but  to  walk  to  Iyit- 
tleville,  a  distance  of  four  or  five  miles.  It  was  late  in  the 
afternoon,  and  the  day  was  exceedingly  hot.  Under  the 
circumstances  Merton  wished  to  go  alone  to  Ljttleville, 
find  accommodations,  obtain  a  carriage,  and  return  for  his 
wife*  but  Mrs.  Merton  insisted  ongoing  with  him.  "If 
you  go,"  she  said,  "I  go;  I  am  not  afraid  but  that  I  can 
walk  four  miles.  It  would  be  almost  impossible  for  you  to 
go  there  and  return  again  forme  to-day;  sol  shall  not 
stay  behind  you." 

"But,"  said  Merton,  "there  may  be  difficulties  on  the 
way.  Rivers  have  been  greatly  swollen  lately;  bridges 
have  been  carried  away.  Besides,  the  way  is  altogether 
strange  to  me.  It  is  much  safer  for  you  to  remain  at  Mr. 
Truthful' s  residence,  until  I  return  for  you,  either  to-day 
or  to-morrow." 

"Please,  do  not  ask  me  to  remain  behind.  However 
long  the  journey,  and  great  the  difficulties,  in  company 
with  you  I  gladly  undertake  them  all,  in  preference  to  re- 
maining behind.  To  be  with  you,  will  be  a  pleasure;  to 
stay  behind,  unbearable  pain." 

No  man  can  withstand  the  pleadings  of  a  beautiful 
woman.  It  was  therefore  decided  that  they  should  set  out 
together  for  the  hoped-for  resting-place;  although  Merton 
had  many  misgivings  as  to  the  wisdom  of  such  a  course. 

Soon  they  were  walking  along  the  banks  of  a  murmur- 
ing stream.  They  had  never  before  heard  its  gurgling 
waters,  nor  seen  the  feathered  tribe  moisten  their  vocal  or- 
gans to  sing  their  songs  of  joy.  As  Merton  heard  their 
hymns  of  praise,  he  recalled  the   words  of  him    who  said: 


THE   GREATEST   IS   CHARITY.  79 

"The  foxes  have  their  holes,  and  the  birds  of  the  air  their 
nests;  but  the  Son  of  Man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head." 

They  had  succeeded  in  walking  two  or  three  miles  over 
the  burning  sand,  after  having  crossed  the  little  brook, 
when  Mrs.  Merton  said:  "See,  Harry!  here  are  two  roads. 
Which  do  we  take?  One  goes  through  the  corn-fields,  and 
the  other  across  the  prairie. ' ' 

"Since  neither  of  us  knows  anything  about  the  way," 
replied  Merton,  "I  presume  we  are  each  equally  certain; 
but  let  us  take  this  one  leading  over  the  prairie.  It  is  at 
least  easier  to  travel." 

Walking  along  for  a  short  distance,  they  met  an  old 
woman  and  a  boy  riding  on  a  wagon.  "Madam,"  said 
Merton,  "are  we  on  the  right  way  to  L,ittleville?" 

"Lord!  no  sir;  you  must  go  back,  and  take  the  road 
leading  through  that  yer  corn-field.  It  is  a  mighty  hot  day 
for  sich  folks  as  you  to  walk  to  Littleville.  If  I  hadn't  a 
heap  of  work  to  do  to-day,  I  would  drive  you  right  over 
there;  but  ain't  got  no  time  now." 

"Thank  you,  Madam,"  replied  Merton.  "We'll  man- 
age to  get  along.  We  are  much  obliged  to  you." 

Retracing  their  steps,  they  soon  found  themselves  pass- 
ing through  the  most  luxuriant  corn,  from  ten  to  twelve 
feet  high.  Being  very  hungry,  Merton  appeased  his  ap- 
petite by  eating  some  ears,  as  he  travelled  on. 

"I  wonder  are  we  ever  going  to  get  to  Littleville?" 
said  Mrs.  Merton.  "  This  is  the  longest  four  miles  I  have 
ever  travelled.  When  we  started,  they  told  us  that  it  was 
about  four  miles;  after  travelling  an  hour,  that  woman  tells 
us  it  is  still  three  miles  distant.  It  seems  to  me  that  the 
miles  in  this  country  are  like  men's  consciences.  Hark! 
What  is  that?" 

"I  do  not  know,"  replied  Merton;  "but  I  know  you 
are  tired.     I  presume  the  distance  from  Micropolis  to  Lit- 


80  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

tleville  is  more  than  four  miles;  but  it  is  always  thus  with 
tired  feet.  You  have  never  known  the  day  when  you  could 
walk  far;  much  less  are  you  able  to  do  so  on  this  burning 
sand.  Listen!  I  guess  that  must  be  what  you  heard  just 
now.  Is  not  that  the  sound  of  a  river?  It  seems  to  me 
so.  Surely,  a  Jordan  does  not  roll  between  us  and  the 
Promised  Land!" 

"If  so,  Harry,"  she  answered,  "it  would  be  hard  to 
say  which  to  do,  go  into  the  overwhelming  waters,  or  sur- 
render to  Pharaoh  and  his  hosts.  But  there  is  your  Jordan, 
and  a  big  one  it  is.  I  thought  I  heard  it.  I  fear  in  our 
case  the  fiat  is  gone  forth:  'Ye  shall  not  go  over  thither.' 
We  may  have  a  time  watching  the  stars  to-night.  Wouldn't 
it  be  fun!  We  should  never  forget  it." 

There  rolled  the  river  in  its  peaceful  bed,  shaded  by 
tall,  over-hanging  trees.  No  bridge  was  visible;  it  had  been 
carried  away  by  the  late  floods.  What  was  to  be  done?  The 
river  was  wide,  but  apparently  not  very  deep;  so  Merton 
determined  to  lose  no  time  in  trying  its  depth.  Drawing 
off  his  shoes  and  stockings,  he  began  to  wade  across  the 
stream,  carefully  selecting  the  shallowest  parts.  He  found 
the  stream  from  eighty  to  ninety  feet  wide,  and  from  one 
to  three  feet  deep.  Having  thus  found  the  depth  of  the 
stream,  he  returned  for  Mrs.  Merton.  Taking  her  in  his 
arms,  he  waded  across  as  before,  though  progress  was 
much  slower,  and  to  his  feet  most  painful,  walking  over 
a  pebbly  bottom,  with  a  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds 
in  his  arms.  Once  having  gained  the  other  side,  it  was  but 
a  short  time  before  they  were  in  the  little  village  of  Little- 
ville,  knocking  at  the  door  of  the  residence  of  the  person 
whom  Merton  sought. 

"Does  Mr.  Blossom  live  here?"  asked  Merton  of  the 
lady  who  opened  the  door. 

"Yes,  sir;  Mr.  Blossom  lives  here.    Do  you  wish  to  see 


THE   GREATEST   IS   CHARITY.  8 1 

him?  I  am  Mrs.  Blossom." 

"I  am  very  glad  to  have  the  pleasure  of  knowing  you, 
Mrs.  Blossom,"  replied  Merton.  "I  am  Mr.  Merton,  your 
preacher  newly  appointed  to  this  charge.  It  may  be  you 
have  heard  of  my  coming,  through  the  presiding  elder. 
This  is  my  wife.  We  have  been  told  that  we  might  have 
board  and  accommodation  at  your  house.  If  so,  we  shall  be 
glad  to  stay  with  you,  paying  whatever  you  think  is  right. 
We  had  hoped  to  live  in  Micropolis;  but  could  not  find 
acceptable  accommodations  there." 

"Accomodations  at  Micropolis!  Nobody  who  knows  the 
people  of  that  town,  would  go  there  for  anything.  If  you 
had  been  acquainted  with  them  as  I  am,  you  would  have 
looked  elsewhere  for  favors.  Of  course,  like  most  other 
western  people,  the  folks  there  aren't  any  too  well  fixed; 
but  the  trouble  with  them  is,  they  aren't  willing  to  do 
what  they  might.  My  home  is  not  a  big  one,  and  it  isn't 
fixed  up  like  I  want  it  to  be;  but  if  I  don't  know  what  it 
is  now  to  live  in  a  nice  house,  I  did  once.  I  was  brought 
up  in  Indiana,  in  as  nice  a  home  as  the  best  of  them  ever 
had;  and,  besides,  I  was  taught  by  my  parents  to  be  kind 
and  obliging  to  folks  in  need,  as  long  as  they  did  what 
was  right." 

"Almost  any  place,  Mrs.  Blossom,  provided  it  is  clean, 
is  acceptable  to  us  just  now;  especially  to  Mrs.  Merton, 
who  is  exceedingly  weary  from  the  long  walk." 

"Long  walk!  Do  you  mean  to  say,  Mrs.  Merton,  that 
you  have  walked  all  the  way  from  Micropolis?" 

'Yes,  Mrs. Blossom;  I  have  accompanied  my  husband." 

"Come  right  in,  sir.  We  are  just  at  tea,  and  should  be 
glad  for  you  to  join  us. " 

At  the  table  Job's  comforter  came:  "The  preacher  who 
preceded  you, ' '  said  Mr.  Blossom,  "was  an  unmarried  man 
He  was  just  the  kind  of  a  man  for  this  place,  for  he  was 


82  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

able  to  rough  it.  Still  he  didn't  take  very  well.  They  call- 
ed him  '  Wild  Bill.'  He  used  to  preach  with  his  coat  off, 
and  his  sleeves  rolled  up,  and  a  sash  around  his  waist. 
When  he  left,  the  poor  fellow  didn't  give  us  a  farewell  ser- 
mon. In  fact,  nobody  knew  that  he  was  going,  he  left- in 
such  a  hurry.  This  haste  in  leaving  was  the  cause,  I  sup- 
pose, of  his  forgetting  to  pay  his  board-bill ;  and  I  reckon 
he  is  too  busy  heralding  the  Gospel  to  remember  such  little 
trifles  now.  Previous  to  the  coming  of  '  Wild  Bill,'  a  mar- 
ried preacher  had  charge  here.  This  fellow's  father  was 
well  fixed,  lived  near  here,  and  was  his  main  support.  At 
the  commencement  of  his  work,  the  father  gave  him  a  nice 
pair  of  ponies,  and  a  buggy  to  get  around  in.  This  preacher 
used  to  hold  forth  pretty  good;  but  somehow  he  didn't  take, 
although  he  had  a  nice  little  woman.  One  of  the  members, 
knowing  that  the  minister's  wife  didn't  like  squash,  carried 
him  a  whole  load  as  quarterage.  After  he  drove  away,  the 
preacher  and  his  wife,  looking  at  the  wagon- load  of  squash, 
burst  into  tears.  At  the  end  of  the  year,  notwithstanding 
his  father's  help,  he  was  forced  to  leave  for  want  of  support, 
and  to  sell  his  ponies  and  buggy,  to  have  money  to  get 
away  with.  I  believe  he  left  a  few  debts,  but  that's  to  be 
expected  ;  it's  about  the  only  marks  a  preacher  leaves  be- 
hind him,  in  this  country,  to  prove  he's  ever  been  here. 
Preaching  out  here  doesn't  appear  to  be  a  very  flourishing 
business.  A  good  many  take  to  it,  and  for  a  time  carry 
around  their  goods  ;  but,  take  my  word  for  it,  the  people 
won't  invest.  I  don't  know  how  this  thing  is  ;  may  be  they 
found  it  didn't  pay  in  the  east.  I  assure  you,  Merton,  I 
am  not  saying  this  to  discourage  you  ;  I'd  be  the  last  to  do 
that.  You  know,  I'm  a  member  of  the  church  myself ;  but, 
then,  I  don't  go  to  church,  for  the  reason  that  I  let  the 
good  brethren  fight  it  out  among  themselves ;  and  it's  just 


THE   GREATEST   IS   CHARITY.  83 

as  good  as  a  circus  sometimes  to  see  them  at  it.  On  the 
whole  Mr.  Merton,  you  are  come  to  a  pretty  tough  place. " 

These  remarks  were  poor  sauce  for  Merton' s  dinner; 
but  he  had  to  use  it,  although  it  made  his  meal  of  herbs 
almost  indigestible.  In  his  heart  he  wished  he  had  never 
seen  Kansas.  He  felt  greatly  hurt  at  Mr.  Blossom's  in- 
sinuation, implied  in  what  had  been  said  about  ministers 
going  away,  forgetting  to  pay  their  board-bills,  and  leav- 
ing debts  behind  them.  Nevertheless,  he  appeared  not  to 
regard  it,  except  to  remark  that  whether  successful  or  not, 
he  certainly  would  not  go  away,  forgetting  to  pay  his 
board-bill,  or  leaving  debts  behind  him;  that  as  he  was 
then  free  from  all  such  incumbrances,  so  he  intended  to 
remain  free  from  them.  Mr.  Blossom  replied  that  he  did 
not,  of  course,  suppose  that  Merton  would  cheat  any  one 
out  of  board-money  or  anything  else;  he  only  wished  to 
show  what  kind  of  preachers  had  been  stationed  there. 
The  explanation,  however,  did  not  remove  from  Merton 
the  consciousness,  that  Blossom  suspected  that  he  might 
be  once  more  cheated  out  of  his  board-bill. 

On  the  morning  of  the  following  Sunday,  Merton 
preached,  at  Micropolis,  from  the  words,  "Strive  to  enter 
in  at  the  strait  gate;"  and  in  the  evening,  at  Ljttleville, 
from  the  words,  "If  I  wash  thee  not,  thou  hast  no  part 
with  me."  At  each  point  the  audience  was  good,  and  com- 
posed of  representatives  of  numerous  Christian  bodies,  the 
Winibrennarians  being  in  the  majority. 

At  the  close  of  the  day  he  was  very  tired,  not  less  from 
walking  more  than  ten  miles,  than  from  the  labor  attend- 
ing the  services;  yet  the  hope  of  doing  good  and  of  better 
times  strengthened  him  to  bear  with  his  disagreeable  cir- 
cumstances; but  he  felt  greatly  disappointed  with  his 
charge. 

The  Sunday   following  he  preached,  in  the  morning  at 


84  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

Littleville,  in  the  afternoon  at  Centre,  and  in  the  evening 
at  Micropolis.  This  involved  a  journey  of  thirty  miles  on 
horseback.  The  close  of  the  day  found  Merton  exces- 
sively weary,  and  not  a  little  suspicious  of  his  adaptation  to 
the  people  and  place.  Tired  as  he  was  when  the  work  of 
the  day  had  been  finished,  he  had  to  travel  to  Littleville, 
a  distance  of  more  than  four  miles,  in  as  dark  a  night  as 
he  had  ever  known.  Through  the  thick  darkness  he  groped 
his  way  over  the  railroad  ties,  cheered  by  the  conscious- 
ness of  having  done  his  duty.  One  bridge  had  been  crossed; 
but  yet  another  was  to  come  much  more  dangerous  than 
that.  The  ties  of  the  former  were  spanned  by  boards,  but 
the  ties  of  this  were  not  spanned;  and  underneath  them  ran 
a  roaring  torrent  of  water  swollen  to  such  a  degree  from 
the  late  rains,  that  it  threatened  to  carry  away  the  whole 
structure.  The  intense  darkness,  and  the  roar  of  the  tor- 
rent below,  made  him  hesitate,  tremble;  and  the  frequent 
flashes  of  the  vivid  lightning  made  the  scene  still  more  ap- 
palling. He  could  not  see  where  to  step,  and  one  false 
step  would  hurl  him  into  the  flood  beneath.  What  then 
would  Mrs.  Merton  do!  The  thought  made  his  head  swim ; 
and  to  prevent  himself  from  falling,  he  crossed  the  most 
dangerous  part  of  the  bridge  on  his  hands  and  knees.  A- 
gain  and  again  in  his  heart  did  he  rebel  against  the  work 
he  had  to  do;  and  as  often  did  he  say:  "It  is  my  Father's 
hand  that  leadeth  me,  and  he  doth  all  things  well.  Through 
the  dense  darkness,  He  will  bring  me  to  the  light." 

When  he  arrived  at  Littleville,  he  found  his  beloved 
wife  wild  with  fear,  standing  at  the  chamber  window,  gaz- 
ing in  the  direction  he  was  to  come,  and  trying  to  pierce 
the  gloom  to  discover  his  approach.  Her  joy  at  his  arrival 
can  be  better  imagined  than  described.  "O  Harry!  Har- 
ry!" she  cried,  "I  felt  sure  you  had  fallen  through  the 
bridge;  it  was  so  pitch-dark.     I  fancied  I  could  see  your 


THE    GREATEST   IS  CHARITY.  85 

form  carried  down  the  stream;  and  all  I  could  do,  was  to 
wring  my  hands  in  despair.  Oh,  how  I  thank  God  you  are 
come!" 

The  next  Sunday,  Merton  preached  in  the  morning  at 
Smith's,  from  St.  James  in.  13.  The  little  house  was  more 
than  full.  After  service  he  set  out  on  horseback  for  Hi- 
bernia;  but  on  the  way  a  drenching  rain  came  on,  wetting 
him  through  and  through.  The  thunder  was  so  loud,  and 
the  lightning  so  fierce,  that  his  horse  became  unmanage- 
able. In  addition  to  this,  he  lost  his  way,  going  about  three 
miles  beyond  the  preaching-point.  When  he  arrived,  the 
people  had  gone,  supposing  from  the  lateness  of  the  hour, 
that  he  was  not  coming.  From  this  point  he  rode  on  to 
Micropolis;  but  it  continued  to  rain  so  violently,  that  no 
services  could  be  held  there. 

That  night  Merton  was  unable  to  return  to  Ljttleville. 
The  long  ride  of  from  twenty-five  to  thirty  miles,  most  of 
it  through  drenching  rain,  made  him  so  tired  that  any 
resting-place  was  acceptable. 

The  wife  of  the  gentleman  at  whose  house  Merton 
passed  the  night,  held  some  very  peculiar,  religious  views. 
The  next  day  the  husband  said  to  him:  '  T  guess  you  found 
my  wife  a  rum  one,  elder;  didn't  you?" 

"Your  wife,  sir,"  replied  Merton,  "has  some  strange 
ideas;  but  in  such  matters,  it  is  better  to  be  liberal.  It 
may  be,  in  the  near  future,  she  will  modify  her  belief  some- 
what." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it,  elder,"  he  replied,  "not  a  bit  of  it. 
Come  what  will,  she'll  stick  to  her  trumps,  though  every 
player  leaves  the  table;  and,  for  my  part,  I  think  she's 
about  right.  Since  there  are  so  many  denominations,  I 
see  no  reason  why  she  can't  have  one;  so  I  say  to  her,  'go 
right  on;  set  up  your  church,  and  make  me  a  bishop.'  I 
tell  you,  elder,  she's  a  good  one.     You'll  do  a  heap  of 


86  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

good  by  talking  to  her.     I  guess  you'd  better  use  your 
powder  and  shot  on  more  paying  game." 

In  a  few  days,  Merton  and  his  wife  left  the  residence  of 
Mr.  Blossom,  having  been  pressed  to  spend  a  month  at 
the  home  of  Mr.  Soulless,  who  was  a  wealthy  farmer,  liv- 
ing about  ten  miles  from  the  city  of  Micropolis. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

THE  CURSE  OF  AVARICE. 

oiidi  yap  ov8t  Key  avrbs  \mii«pvye  Kijpa  fx^Xaivav 
dXX'  *H<paicrTOS  epvro,  adwcre  5t — 

Nor  could  I  have  escaped  black  destruction, 
Had  not  Hephaestus  snatched  and  saved  me. 

{Homer:  Iliad  V.  22.) 

"IX7HILE  journeying  across  the  prairie  to   the  residence 
of  Mr.  Soulless,  the  following  conversation  occurred 
between  Mr.  Buttolph  and  Merton: 

"So  you  are  going  to  the  residence  of  Mr.  Soulless. 
Well,  I  hope  you  will  enjoy  your  visit.;  but  you  will  find 
him  a  crabbed  old  fellow.  He  is  rich  enough,  sure.  If  you 
happen  to  strike  him  right,  you  can  make  use  of  him;  but 
if  you  don't,  it's  all  over.  Soulless  is  pretty  well  known 
around  here.  Those  that  get  into  his  hands,  never  get  out 
again.  I  have  had  not  a  little  experience  that  way  my- 
self. And,  by  the  way,  Brother  Merton,  I've  had  exper- 
ience in  this  country  in  more  than  one  way.  I  left  the 
city  of  William  Penu,  some  years  ago;  and  came  out  west, 
hoping  to  improve  my  health.  I  used  to  preach  often  in 
the  east,  and  had  not  been  here  long  before  they  induced 
me  to  take  charge  of  this  circuit.  The  first  year  I  labored 
almost  night  and  day,  and  tried  in  every  way  to  build  up 
the  work.  Constantly  exposed  to  all  kinds  of  weather, 
my  health  broke  entirely  down;  and  at  the  end  of  the  year, 
I  was  forced  to  resign  the  work.  All  I  received  of  this 
people  for  my  whole  year's  labor,  was  sixty  dollars.  I 
tell  you,  Brother  Merton,  you  may  expect  what  you  will; 
but  I'm  sure  you'll  not  receive  from  this  circuit  the  one- 
half  of  what  you  expect.     This  may  dishearten  you;   but 

s7 


88  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

it's  God's  truth." 

"But,"  replied  Merton,  "the  elder  has  guaranteed  me 
support." 

"As  to  guarantees,  Brother  Merton,"  said  Mr.  But- 
tolph,  "they  are  worth  as  much  as  the  elder  who  made 
them.  Of  one  thing  I'm  sure:  they  don't  count  for  much 
in  this  country." 

"It  may  be  so,"  replied  Merton;  "yet  I  can  but  hope 
that  matters  will  not  be  so  bad  as  you  predict." 

"Faith  is  a  good  thing,  Brother  Merton,  especially 
when  you  have  the  loaves  and  fishes.  But  I've  never  seen 
the  man  who  could  remove  a  mountain  by  it,  even  though 
it  were  no  bigger  than  a  grain  of  mustard  seed. ' ' 

On  the  following  Sunday  Mr.  Smith,  a  kind  and  good 
man,  took  Merton  across  the  rolling  prairie  to  his  different 
appointments,  Mrs.  Merton,  for  the  first  time,  accompany- 
ing him.  The  intense  pleasure  Merton  felt  at  having  his 
wife  with  him,  can  be  fully  understood  by  that  man  only 
who  is  blessed  with  a  woman  beautiful,  accomplished,  and 
lovable  for  his  wife.  The  husband's  love  for  such  a  woman 
is  well  expressed  by  Tennyson: 

She  is  coming,  my  own,  my  sweet; 

Were  it  ever  so  airy  a  tread, 

My  heart  would  hear  her  and  beat, 

Were  it  earth  in   an  earthy  bed; 

My  dust  would  hear  her  and  beat, 

Had  I  lain  for  a  century  dead; 

Would  start  and  tremble  under  her  feet, 

And  blossom  in  purple  and  red. 

At  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  they  sprang  into  the 
little  carriage  drawn  by  two  fleet  and  pretty  ponies,  and 
started  for  the  fields  of  labor;  the  first  of  which,  after  a  few 
miles  of  round-about  driving,  they  reached  about  the 
time  for  morning  service.  After  delivering  a  sermon,  at 
this  place,  based  on  the  words,    "I  will  not  leave  you 


THE    CURSE    OF   AVARICE.  89 

comfortless,"  Merton  started  for  the  next  appointment, 
Hibernia,  seven  miles  distant.  On  their  way  they  took 
dinner  at  the  house  of  one  of  the  principal  members — a 
dinner  composed  largely  of  vegetables  and  a  wonderful 
preserve  made,  as  the  good  lady  informed  Merton,  by 
boiling  tomatoes  in  molasses.  As  Merton  ate  it,  he 
hoped  that  the  recipe  for  its  preparation  would  be  forgot- 
ten by  the  next  generation.  It  was  nearly  black,  and  had 
to  Merton  a  very  disagreeable  taste.  With  the  color  of 
this  rare  preserve,  the  table-cloth  and  the  walls  of  the 
dining-room  seemed  to  perfectly  correspond.  So  this 
good  church-member  was  not  only  religious,  but  she  had, 
as  we  see,  an  eye  to  unity  and  conformity. 

Leaving  the  house  of  this  good  Samaritan,  they  hur- 
ried on  to  Hibernia.  On  their  way  they  came  upon  some 
wild  plums,  which  they  ate  with  a  relish.  They  were 
glad  at  having  such  delicious  dessert  to  banish  from  their 
palates  the  taste  of  the  pitchy  composite  they  had  just 
been  compelled  to  swallow. 

The  meeting  at  Hibernia  was  a  great  success.  The 
services  opened  with  the  singing  of  the  well-known  hymn, 
"A  charge  to  keep  I  have;"  and,  surely,  such  a  discord- 
ant, rasping  clamor  was  never  before  heard.  Mrs.  Mer- 
ton afterwards  said  it  was  like  the  sharpening  of  ten- 
thousand  saws  all  at  once.  At  the  close  of  the  sermon, 
which  was  based  upon  the  words,  "Escape  thee  to  the 
mountain,  escape  for  thy  life,  lest  thou  perish,"  the  prin- 
cipal members  thanked  Merton  for  the  discourse;  and 
promised  to  raise  a  large  portion  of  his  salary,  if  he 
preached  to  them  every  alternate  Sunday.  Merton  could 
not  help  regarding  such  a  people  favorably,  uncouth  and 
ignorant  as  they  evidently  were. 

From  Hibernia  they  drove  on  to  Micropolis,  the  last 
appointment  for   the  day.     Here  Merton  preached  from 


90  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A  SOUL. 

the  words,  "Behold  I  have  spoken  to  you  from  heaven." 
After  the  discourse,  Merton  spoke  plainly  of  the  con- 
dition of  things — of  what  he  thought  had  to  be  done,  if  he 
remained  with  them.  "You  know,  my  dear  friends,"  he 
said,  "that  I  have  no  conveyance  to  take  me  from  one 
point  to  another.  I  hardly  think  that  any  of  you  can  ex- 
pect me,  myself,  to  invest  in  a  horse  and  buggy  to  do  the 
work,  when  I  am  not  certain  of  receiving  enough  for  the 
bare  necessities  of  life.  I  put  the  question  to  you  as 
business  men.  Who  of  you  would  be  willing  to  make 
such  an  investment  on  similar  hopes  of  return  ?  Briefly, 
the  case  is  thus:  If  you  will  provide  me  with  board  and 
proper  accommodations  for  myself  and  wife,  and  with  means 
to  travel  from  one  point  to  another,  I  will  remain  with 
you,  without  any  further  promised  salary;  if  you  can  not 
•do  this,  I  must  leave  you.  I  shall  expect  a  definite  an- 
swer to  this  proposition  in  a  few  days.  You  must,  gen- 
tlemen, do  what  you  think  best  in  the  premises. ' ' 

After  the  service  they  begged  him  not  to  think  of 
leaving.  One  man  who  hitherto  had  given  scarcely  any- 
thing toward  church- work,  offered  thirty  dollars  a  year 
toward  his  support.  Mr.  Truthful  said:  "We've  got  you 
here  now,  and  you  must  not  leave  us.  The  people  never 
came  to  preaching  before,  as  they  do  now;  and  our  hopes 
were  never  so  bright  as  at  present.  Last  night  I  scarcely 
slept,  thinking  of  you,  and  how  best  to  manage  this  work. 
I  knew  we  had  a  man  with  us  now,  who  was  capable  of 
building  us  up,  and  that  he  was  talking  of  leaving.  The 
more  I  thought  over  the  matter,  the  more  it  seemed  to 
me,  your  leaving  would  be  a  terrible  blow  to  all  our  ex- 
pectations. I  do  hope  something  may  be  done  to  hold 
you  here;  I'm  sure  I'm  ready  to  do  my  part." 

Merton  replied:    "I  am  sure  of  that,  Mr.   Truthful, 
from  what  you  have  already  done  for  me.     But  I  think 


THE   CURSE   OF  AVARICE.  9 1 

you  cannot  but  see  the  justice  and  wisdom  of  what  I  have 
said.  Should  I  stay,  I  know  well  that  such  as  you  would 
make  my  burden  a  part  of  your  own;  but  T  can  not  see  you 
crushed  with  such  a  disproportionate  care  for  my  welfare. 
If  the  people  want  me,  they  must  do  their  part;  for 
whether  for  weal  or  woe,  I  will  not  stay  otherwise.  In 
this  matter,  Mr.  Truthful,  I  must  and  will  be  independent. 
I'm  glad  I  said  what  I  said.  Let  the  people  decide.  It 
will  be  better  for  both  you  and  me.  You  must  cheer  up. 
If  I  go  away,  you  will  have  no  bitter  regrets.  You  have 
done  nobly ;  for  which  I  thank  you.  And,  don't  forget, 
if  you  have  no  preacher  here,  such  a  man  as  you  may 
worship  God  in  your  own  home;  for  you  carry  Him  about 
with  you  in  your  heart,  the  real  temple  where  God  de- 
lights to  dwell." 

The  day's  work  was  ended.  It  was  quite  late;  and 
there  yet  lay  before  Merton  a  long  ride  over  the  prairie, 
before  he  would  come  to  his  resting-place. 

"You  must  be  very  tired,"  said  Merton  to  his  wife. 
"I  fear  this  long  ride  has  been  too  much  for  you." 

"O  no!  It  has  been  one  of  the  happiest  days  of  my 
life.  And  what  a  pleasure  it  has  been  to  me,  to  know 
that  I  have  been  by  your  side!  Besides,  Harry,  it  helps 
one  to  be  somewhat  reconciled  to  living  in  such  a  place  as 
this,  when  he  sees  how  eager  the  people  are  to  hear  the 
truth.  I  think  the  congregation  at  Hibernia  did  nobly. 
If  only  your  other  people  would  do  as  well  as  they,  there 
would  be  no  trouble  about  our  getting  along  in  this  place. 
It  is  true,  I  shall  never  forget  their  horrid  singing;  but 
when  I  think  of  that,  I  shall  also  remember  their  earnest- 
ness and  generosity.  If  I  could  have  a  circuit  composed 
wholly  of  such  folks,  I  would  not  care  if  it  were  in  the 
wilderness,  I  would  like  to  be  a  preacher  myself;  but  if 
I'm  not  a  preacher,  I'm  a  preacher's  wife,  and  that's  the 


92  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

next  thing  to  it;  isn't  it,  Harry?" 

"By  no  means,"  answered  Merton.  "You  are  not 
the  next  thing  to  a  preacher,  but  a  thousand  times  ahead 
of  him.  I  would  rather  have  you  than  all  the  preachers 
in  the  state;  and  if  you  add  to  these  all  those  in  the  Holy 
Land,  I  still  prefer  you. 

'Was  ist  mir  alles  Leben  gegen  dich  und  meine  Liebe.' 

If  you  want  them,  you  can  take  the  preachers.  I  would 
rather  hear  one  of  your  sermons  than  all  the  preachers' 
harangues  ever  delivered.     I  say  with  Deucalion: 

'  Namque  ego,  crede  tniki,  si  te  quoque  font  us  haberet, 
Te  sequcrcr,  eonjunx,  ct  me  quoque  font  us  haberet?  ' 

"Harry,  you  are  always  full  of  your  naughty  talk.  I 
am  afraid  you  will  never  lose  your  mischievous  spirit." 

About  this  time  the  grasshoppers  filled  the  country. 
They  looked, when  flying  under  a  bright  sun,  like  falling 
snow-flakes.  They  devoured  everything  green  in  their 
wa>';  filled  the  houses,  and  made  the  water  almost  tm- 
drinkable.  They  would,  strange  to  say,  devour  even 
what  tobacco-chewers  call,  "an  old  quid."" 

On  the  following  Sunday,  Merton  preached,  in  the 
morning,  at  Smith's;  in  the  afternoon,  at  Centre;  and,  in 
the  evening,  at  Micropolis.  At  the  last  place  his  subject 
was  based  on  Heb.  ix.  13;  Rev.  xix.  6. 

The  room  at  Micropolis  was  very  full,  the  air  over- 
heated, and  charged  with  the  odor  of  tobacco.  Being 
sickened  himself,  and  seeing  very  many  ladies  in,  perhaps, 
a  worse  condition,  Merton  rebuked  the  practice  of  whole- 
sale and  indiscriminate  tobacco-spitting,  in  language  as 
mild  as  possible;  but  not  without  creating  some  ill-feeling. 
Said  Mr.  Truthtul,  after  the  service  was  over:  "I  do  wish. 
Mr.  Merton,  you  had  not  spoken  of  tobacco-spitting.  It 
is  a  dirty  practice,  but  one  which  everyone,  almost,  is 
guilty  of  here,     I've  heard  nothing  but  good  this  week 


THE  CURSE  OP   AVARICE  93 

about  our  preacher;  but  now  I  shall  hear  many  say, 'Your 
preacher  had  better  mind  his  own  business.'  It's  hard  for 
people  to  break  off  such  habits." 

"But,  Mr.  Truthful,  had  that  nuisance  not  been  stop- 
ped, I  should  have  been  unable  to  proceed  with  the  services. 
I  was  already  sick  at  the  stomach.  I  protested  in  very 
mild  language;  and  the  favor  I  asked,  I'm  sure,  should 
have  been  willingly  granted.  I  would  not  gladly  offend 
any  one.  I  have  never  used  tobacco  in  any  form,  and 
although  I  like  well  enough  a  little  of  its  odor,  I  could 
not  possibly  endure  the  foul  filth  expectorated  before  my 
eyes  from  the  mouths  of  a  whole  congregation.  If  the 
people  are  so  wedded  to  this  practice  that  they  cannot  give 
it  up,  while  the  services  are  proceeding,  I  have  another 
reason  for  leaving. ' ' 

That  night,  while  returning  on  horseback  from  his 
work,  as  tired  as  ever  man  could  be,  about  five  miles  from 
Micropolis,  and  several  from  any  house,  Merton  saw,  as 
he  thought,  sitting  on  their  haunches,  three  large,  stray 
dogs.  When  riding  along  he  had  been  thinking  of  his 
circumstances;  and  considering  all  things,  he  felt  greatly 
disheartened.  Every  Sunday  he  was  forced  to  travel  about 
thirty  miles  to  reach  his  different  appointments,  always 
depending  on  some  one's  good  will  for  a  horse  to  ride  on. 
As  yet  he  had  no  house,  no  place  to  call  home,  not  even 
an  acceptable  lodging-place;  and  he  felt  in  his  heart  no 
bright  prospects  for  the  future.  For  himself.his  heart  was 
sore  enough;  but  as  he  thought  of  his  wife,  he  felt  more 
impatient,  and  concluded  something  should  be  done. 
While  thus  reflecting,  he  was  brought  within  about  fifteen 
feet  to  the  animals,  when  he  realized,  to  his  horror,  that 
they  were  three  large,  grey  wolves.  The  stars  were 
shining  most  beautifully,  and  the  moon  was  moving 
through  the  heavens  in  all  her  unveiled  glory.       As  he 


94  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

passed  the  animals  he  clapped  his  hands,  and  shouted  at 
the  glaring-eyed  monsters.  No  sooner  had  he  done  this 
than, with  a  frightful  howl, they  sprang  at  the  horse.  The 
latter  gave  a  snort,  and  dashed  away  so  suddenly,  that 
Merton  almost  lost  his  balance,  and  came  very  near  falling 
off.  It  was  a  young  horse',  and  as  yet  had  hardly  been 
worked.  Over  the  prairie  went  the  beautiful,  intelligent, 
and  frightened  creature,  like  the  very  lightning,  pursued 
by  the  maddened,  hungry  wolves,  which  were  all  the  time 
trying  to  get  at  Merton 's  feet.  He  scarcely  hoped,  know- 
ing what  a  poor  rider  he  was,  to  escape  their  distended 
jaws.  In  a  short  time  they  had  succeeded  in  pulling  out 
from  under  the  saddle,  a  blanket  which  Mr.  Smith  had 
spread  there,  and  which,  at  this  time,  must  have  been 
hanging  low  down  at  the  horse's  side.  As  soon  as  this 
was  done,  they  stopped  pursuing  Merton;  and  the  whole 
prairie  seemed  resonant  with  the  howls  of  the  ferocious 
beasts.  But  even  though  no  longer  pursued,  the  horse 
would  not  be  checked.  On  it  rushed  like  a  meteor,  until 
it  dashed  into  the  yard  of  its  owner.  There  stood  Mr 
Smith  wondering  what  could  have  happened,  and  there 
stood  the  horse  shaking  and  trembling  like  a  leaf. 

While  pursued  by  the  wolves,  Merton's  thoughts 
would  often  revert  to  his  wife;  and  he  earnestly  prayed 
that  he  might  not  be  taken  from  her,  and  she  be  left  a 
stranger  in  a  strange  land,  without  money  or  friends. 

Eight  o'clock  the  following  Saturday  night,  Merton 
left  the  residence  of  Mr.  Soulless, and  in  the  darkness  made 
his  way  across  the  prairie  to  the  residence  of  Mr.  Smith. 
It  had  come  to  Merton's  knowledge  that  the  former  had 
loaned  the  latter  quite  a  sum  of  money,  and  that  he  was 
exacting  fifteen  per  cent  interest.  Mr.  Smith  was  a  very 
poor  man  who  had  known  better  days,  but  who  now  was 
living  in  abject  poverty.   His  wife,  surrounded  by  wretch- 


THE   CURSE   OF  AVARICE.  95 

edness  and  want,  was  fast  falling  a  prey  to  anxiety  and 
care.  Merton  could  not  help  feeling  deeply  for  them  in  their 
miserable  state;  and  he  hoped,  by  speaking  to  Mr.Soulless, 
that  he  might  persuade  him  to  exact  less  interest;  but  he 
had  misjudged  him.  He  was  hard-hearted,  unfeeling, un- 
scrupulous, caring  little  for  the  wail  of  the  orphan,  the 
cry  of  the  widow,  or  the  bloody  sweat  of  the  unfortunate 
borrower  that  might  be  in  his  hands,  provided  only  he  got 
his  fifteen  per  cent;  and  yet  this  man  was  a  prominent 
member  of  the  church;  indeed!  he  was  the  very  pillar  of  it. 
"O,  what  a  goodly  outside  falsehood  hath!" 
When  Merton  spoke  to  him  of  the  unfortunate  cir- 
cumstances of  Mr.  Smith,  and  of  the  wretched  condition 
of  his  wife  and  family;  how  he  was  heavily  in  debt,  and 
had  to  pay  fifteen  per  cent,  an  interest,  Merton  said,  ruin- 
ous to  any  borrower,  he  got  very  angry,  and,  as  it  were, 
cried  out  in  the  words  of  Shylock: 

"The  pound  of  flesh  which  I  demand  of  him, 
Is  dearly  bought,  'tis  mine,  and  I  will   have  it," 

Merton  was  very  sorry  to  have  offended  him,  but 
wished,  if  it  were  possible,  to  make  him  deal  mercifully 
with  Mr.  Smith,  who  was  a  member  of  the  same  church, 
and  certainly  in  most  deplorable  circumstances. 

"If  you  do  not  approve  of  my  business  conduct,  Mr. 
Merton,"  said  Mr.  Soulless,  "you  can  leave  my  house, 
sir,  and  leave  it  to-night." 

"I  do  not  approve  of  your  business  conduct  with  Mr. 
Smith,  sir,"  said  Merton;  "nor  do  I  think  that  either  law 
or  Gospel  will  justify  any  man  in  charging  another  fifteen 
per  cent  for  the  loan  of  money,  at  the  same  time  demand- 
ing first-class  security." 

"I  have  loaned  Mr.  Smith,  sir,  money  on  several  oc- 
casions; and  what  I  have  loaned  him,  I  shall  expect  him 
to  return  according  to  agreement." 


96  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

"I  understand,  Mr.  Soulless,"  replied  Merton,  "that 
you  have  done  as  you  say;  and,  without  much  doubt,  as 
you  have  already  taken  from  him,  little  by  little,  much 
that  he  once  possessed,  so  will  you  in  due  time  take  from 
him  the  balance;  for  I  insist,  no  farmer  can  possibly  pay 
fifteen  per  cent,  and  save  his  farm." 

"My  business,  sir,  is  my  own,  and  something  with 
which  you  have  nothing  to  do.  As  you  have  presumed 
to  meddle  with  it,  I  have  already  said  what  you  can  do." 

"Mr.  Soulless,  I  have  heard  you  express  your  desire, 
and  it  will  immediately  be  complied  with,  though  we 
were  to  use  the  prairie  for  a  bed,  and  a  stone  for  a  pillow. 
We  shall  not  again  meddle  with  your  business,  nor  with 
you.  It  may  be,  however,  that  some  day  God  may 
meddle  with  it.  Let  us  hope  that  He  may,  that  justice 
may  be  done  both  to  you  and  Mr.  Smith.  I  am  sure,  as 
a  member  of  the  church,  you  ought  to  be  satisfied  with 
God's  judgment. " 

"A  moment  ago,  sir,  you  said  you  were  going  to  com- 
ply with  my  desire;  let  me  ask  you  to  do  so  immedi- 
ately." 

Thereupon  Merton  collected  the  few  things  he  had 
there,  and  by  the  aid  of  a  lantern,  went  out  into  the  dark- 
ness, leaving  Mrs.  Soulless  and  her  daughter  in  floods  of 
tears.  These  ladies  besought  Merton  to  look  over  Mr. 
Soulless'  actions,  and  remain  with  them;  but  he  felt  the 
insult  was  too  great,  honorably  any  longer  to  continue  as 
their  guest.  The  mother  and  daughter  were  greatly 
pained  at  parting  with  Mrs.  Merton;  but  thanking  them 
for  all  they  had  done  for  her,  with  an  affectionate  kiss  she 
bade  them  good  night,  never  to  see  them  again. 

Mr.  Smith  lived  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  dis- 
tant, and  in  the  darkness  Merton  found  it  very  difficult  to 
find  his  residence.       After  some  wandering  about,  he  was 


THE   CURSE   OF  AVARICE.  97 

glad  to  find  a  light  in  the  window;  and  from  the  character 
of  the  man,  he  knew  well  that  it  was  for  him,  or  any 
others  in  like  circumstances. 

On  opening  the  door,  Mr.  Smith  was  amazed  to  find 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Merton  there,  seeking  shelter  for  the  night. 
They  were  willingly  admitted,  and  given  the  best  the 
house  afforded. 

Next  morning,  at  the  breakfast  table,  Mr.  Smith  said: 
"It  is  a  wonder  to  me,  Brother  Merton,  that  you  could 
stay  there  as  long  as  you  have.  Mr.  Soulless  is  a  very 
passionate  man,  ready  to  bite  an}*  one  who  may  by  chance 
come  in  his  way.  His  soul  is  as  hard  as  his  money,  and 
that's  hard  enough  to  grind  out  the  life  of  any  man.  It 
is  my  fault,  of  course,  that  I  ever  got  into  his  power;  but 
I  fear  I  have  now  as  little  chance  of  escape,  as  the  fly  in 
the  claws  of  the  spider. ' ' 

"I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Smith,  that  the  unpleasantness  oc- 
curred between  me  and  Mr.  Soulless,"  replied  Merton; 
"but  I  thought,  and  think,  it  was  my  duty  to  do  as  I  did 
Since  it  has  occurred,  it  has  determined  me  to  leave  this 
place,  and  leave  it  immediately.  I  have  no  home, 
no  conveyance  to  take  me  from  point  to  point,  no 
proper  boarding-place,  nothing,  indeed,  that  can  make 
life  bearable  for  me  and  my  wife.  To  stand  this  any 
longer,  would  be  degrading  to  myself,  and  insulting  to 
her.     I  shall  bid  this  place  farewell  this  week. ' ' 

"Under  the  circumstances,  Brother  Merton,  I  could 
not  blame  you;  especially  since  this  trouble  has  occurred 
between  you  and  Mr.  Soulless,  who  would  now  make 
your  stay  here  as  unpleasant  as  he  possibly  could.  Being 
the  pillar  of  the  church,  it  is  in  his  power  to  do  you  not  a 
little  harm.  No,  sir,  I  could  not  blame  you  for  your 
decision.  Personally  I  am  very  sorry  to  see  you  go;  but 
as   things   are   going,  I  do  not  think  I  can  long  remain 


98  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

here.  I  fear  I  shall  soon  lose  the  little  I  have,  being 
completely  in  his  power,  and  especially  since  I  am  not  as 
strong  as  I  was.  From  my  very  heart  I  pray  that, 
wherever  you  may  go,  God  may  bless  you." 

Merton  no  more  doubted  that  Mr.  Smith  was  sincere 
in  his  prayer,  than  that  he  himself  had  labored  in  vain 
with  a  christless  Christian  for  justice  to  his  fellow-man. 
While  Mr.  Soulless  could  make  an  affecting  prayer,  and 
give  an  ideal  experience,  he  could  smile  at  the  misfortune 
of  the  widow,  and  laugh  at  the  calamity  of  the  fatherless. 

Ilium  et  labentem   Teucri  et  risere   natantem, 
Et  salsos  rident  revomentem  fectore  /luctus.    (  Vergil:  Aen,  v.  181.) 


xM: 


CHAPTER  IX. 

LAMPS   WITHOUT   OIL. 

Extemflo  Libyae  magnas  it  Fama  per  nrbes — 
Fama,  mall  it  m  qua  non  aliud  velocius  ullum, 
Mobilitate  viget,  virisque  adquirit  eundo: 
Parva  metu  primo,  mox  sese  attollit  in  auras, 
Ingrediturque  solo,  et  caput  inter  nubila  condit. — 
Instantly  Rumor  rushes  through  the  great  cities  of  Libya — 
Rumor,  a  monster  than  which  no  other  is  more  swift. 
She  thrives  on  her  mobility,  and  acquires  force  by  going: 
At  first  small  through  fear,  soon  she  lifts  herself  into  the  skies, 
And  though  treading  on  the  ground,  buries  her   head    among 
the  clouds.  (  Vergil:  Aen.  iv.  /yj.) 

rERTON  now  sought  and  obtained  an  appointment  in 
another  conference.  Having  learned  that  the  bish- 
op presiding  over  the  assembly  was  one  of  his  old  teach- 
ers, Merton  called  on  him,  in  the  morning,  before  the 
conference  was  opened. 

"From  what  I  know  of  you,  Bro.  Merton,"  said  the 
bishop,  "I  judge  you  have  acted  unwisely  in  coming  out 
west.  You  are  not  the  kind  of  man,  nor  is  your  wife  the 
kind  of  woman,  that  is  wanted  here.  You  would  have 
done  much  better,  had  you  remained  in  a  more  civilized 
community.  This  conference  is  quite  full,  as  it  is;  no  good 
appointment  is  vacant,  that  I  know  of;  and  for  the  few 
good  places  to  be  had,  there  are  already  twice  too  many 
applicants.  I  know  of  only  one  place  not  already  pro- 
vided for,  Moth  and  Mazar.  If  you  choose  to  go  there,  I 
will  see  that  you  have  the  opportunity.  It  is  a  very  un- 
desirable appointment.  Something  better  would  be  done 
for  you  next  year,  undoubtedly  ;  and  I  wrill  have  a  small 
missionary  appropriation  made,  to  help  you  out  this  year. 


99 


IOO  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

But  I  doubt  very  much  that  you  and  Mrs.  Merton  can 
live  on  the  income  you  will  receive  there.  Still,  if  you 
wish  to  try  it,  you  can." 

Merton  replied  that  as  things  were,  he  thought  it 
better  to  accept  such  work  as  the  conference  had  at  its 
command,  and  to  trust  to  the  future  for  something  better. 
The  appointment  was  given  him  ;  and  soon  he  was  on  the 
cars  rushing  toward  his  destination.  While  thus  travel- 
ling, he  met  a  bishop  and  a  minister  of  the  Protestant 
Episcopal  Church: 

"You  are  returning  from  the  conference,  I  presume," 
said  the  bishop. 

"Hardly  returning,  sir,"  answered  Merton,  "but 
rather  coming.  I  am  a  total  stranger  to  this  part  of  the 
world,  having  just  received  my  first  appointment.  I  am 
but  a  short  time  out  of  the  schools  ;  and  I  am  really  long- 
ing to  be  at  my  post  of  duty." 

Having  inquired  concerning  Merton' s  education, 
nationality,  and  early  faith,  and  being  informed,  the 
bishop  replied: 

"It  seems  to  me  very  strange,  Mr.  Merton,' why  such 
a  man  as  you  could  be  contented  in  your  church  home. 
The  Episcopal  Church  is  really  the  same  as  the  English  ; 
it  is  also  in  great  need  of  men  who  are,  like  yourself, 
educated,  and  energetic.  I  hope,  Mr.  Merton,  that  you 
may  think  of  the  claims  of  your  mother  church;  and,  if 
possible,  come  over  to  us.  We  will  give  you  a  heart}7 
welcome,  and  send  you  to  preach  the  faith  once  delivered 
to  the  saints.  I  am  sure  you  would  be  much  happier  in 
your  mother's  house.  The  prayer-book  would  be  very 
becoming  in  your  hands;  although  it  has  been  a  stranger 
to  you  so  long.  We  would  kill  the  fatted  calf,  and  make 
merry  at  your  return.  I  ask  you,  Mrs.  Merton,  to  use 
your  influence  with  your  husband,  and  seek  to  bring  him 


LAMPS    WITHOUT   OIL.  IOI 

back  to  his  old  allegiance. ' ' 

"Bishop,"  replied  Mrs.  Merton,  "you  can  depend  on 
me  doing  my  best.  I  greatly  prefer  the  Episcopal  Church 
to  any  other,  because  of  her  forms  as  well  as  her  history." 

"Mr.  Merton,"  said  the  bishop,  "I  will  take  the  pleas- 
ure, at  my  earliest  opportunity,  of  mailing  you  a  prayer- 
book,  and  a  copy  of  the  canons;  and  if  you  wish,  you  can 
take  orders  with  us  in  one  year  from  now.  Your  duty  is 
clear,  and  the  path  is  easy." 

The  bishop  was  quite  a  gentlemanly-looking  man,  and 
made  a  good  impression  on  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Merton. 

Having  finished  his  conversation  with  the  bishop,  who, 
in  the  meantime,  had  left  the  cars,  Merton  was  approach- 
ed by  the  minister  who  had  had  charge  of  his  appoint- 
ment the  preceding  year.  After  introducing  himself,  he 
said: 

"Bro.  Merton,  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  warn  you  of  Bro. 
Squareman.  He  is  a  very  peculiar  man  indeed,  always 
ready  to  make  mischief  in  the  church,  and  to  speak  evil  of 
his  neighbors.  Be  very  careful  how  you  treat  him.  If  you 
show  much  regard  for  him,  your  chief  members  will  be 
offended;  if  you  show  little,  he  is  likely  to  lose  his  soul. 
He  thinks  he  has  not  been  well  treated;  blames  the  min- 
ister, blames  the  brethren,  blames  everybody.  Nor  is  his 
wife  much  different.  She  is  one  of  those  evil-tongued 
women  ready  to  explode  at  any  moment,  and  as  full  of 
danger  as  a  powder-magazine.  The  relations  of  this 
brother  and  sister  with  the  church  are  at  present  very 
much  strained;  and  the  least  friction  will  break  the  last 
remaining  link  that  binds  them  to  you.  In  your  congre- 
gation you  will  find  another  man,  Bro.  Headstrong,  a  man 
full  of  zeal,  but  fuller  still  of  ignorance  and  perversity.  He 
wants  a  good  deal  to  say;  but  you  can  stand  that,  since  he 
pays  well.     Between  Bros.   Headstrong  and  Squareman 


102  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A  SOUL. 

there  is  a  very  bitter  feeling  arising  from  an  old  sore.  We 
had  a  church  trial  about  it;  but  no  good  ever  resulted. 
Indeed,  I  think  it  made  the  matter  worse.  This  feeling 
does  lots  of  mischief  in  the  circuit.  You  are  going  to  an 
extremely  difficult  charge,  one  poor  in  money,  but  rich 
in  quarrels.     God  give  you  grace  to  conquer." 

Merton  thanked  the  gentleman  for  his  advice;  at  the 
same  time,  he  could  not  help  feeling  that  he  should  have 
felt  happier,  had  he  never  received  it.  He  had  but  a  mo- 
ment to  wait,  however,  before  another  good  brother  ap- 
proached him,  and  said: 

"I  think  the  bishop  must  have  lost  his  head,  to  send 
you  where  you  are  going,  Bro.  Merton.  It  does  appear 
to  me  sometimes  that  if  our  appointments  were  all  put  into 
a  bag,  and  shaken  up,  and  drawn  by  the  preachers  blind- 
folded, they  would  be  more  appropriately  filled  than  they 
are  to-day.  I  am  truly  sorry  that  you  are  going  to  Moth 
and  Mazar." 

"Why  so,  sir?"  asked  Merton. 

"I  have  preached  there,  Bro.  Merton,  and  know  the 
people  well.  You  will  not  remain  six  months,  and  should 
not.  They  never  have  had  a  minister  whom  they  did  not 
abuse,  and  I  guess  never  will.  You  will  find  no  roses  in 
your  path  there,  I  assure  you;  but  thorns  grow  there  ev- 
erywhere, and  plenty  of  them,  too.  I  don't  wish  to  dis- 
hearten you,  God  knows;  but  I  speak  the  truth.  You  are 
not  going  to  the  people  who  need  you,  you  are  going  where 
you  will  spend  your  energies  in  vain;  and  take  my  word 
for  it." 

The  minister  having  returned  to  his  own  seat,  Mrs. 
Merton  said:  "It  seems  to  me  that  all  the  powers  of  dark- 
ness combine,  on  this  train,  to  dishearten  you,  before  you 
even  know  the  people  to  whom  you  are  sent.  They  speak 
of  members  abusing  one  another!    If  this  is  not  abuse  that 


LAMPS    WITHOUT    OIL.  I03 

I  have  heard  from  them,  then  I  do  not  know  what  abuse 
is;  I  must  not  only  be  in  a  strange  land,  but  I  must  also 
hear  a  strange  language.  I  wonder  if  they  are  a  fair  sam- 
ple of  the  whole !  Surely  they  are  spiritually  dead.  Yet, 
how  fair  the  corpse  looks  at  a  distance!" 

"Never  mind,  darling,"  replied  Merton.  "You  are 
not  yet  confederate  against  me;  and,  until  that  happens, 
I  shall  not  lose  courage.  Ministers  are  but  flesh  and  blood. 
It  may  be  they  mean  well;  and,  perhaps,  what  they  have 
said,  may  really  be  of  great  use  to  me.  Let  us  hope  such 
may  be  the  case,  anyhow." 

"Flesh  and  blood  you  say,  Hany!  I  hardly  know.  By 
looking  at  them,  we  can  see  they  have  flesh  enough;  but 
that  they  have  any  blood  in  them,  I  am  not  certain;  they 
certainly  appear  to  act  altogether  as  bloodless  creat- 
ures. Such  evil  words  and  such  discouragement !  I  feel 
I  shall,  ere  long,  greatly  modify  my  childish  ideas  about 
the  profession  to  which  you  belong.  I  very  much  doubt 
that  they  are  either  as  harmless  as  doves,  or  wise  as 
serpents.  I  don't  believe  that  what  they  have  told  you, is 
worth  remembering.  If  I  were  you,  I  wrould  go  to  my 
appointment  as  if  I  had  never  heard  anything  about  the 
people,  and  not  with  prejudice  in  my  heart  against  them. 
I  wish  those  preachers  would  mind  their  own  business, and 
let  us  alone. ' ' 

"Say  no  more  about  it, darling,  "replied  Merton.  "We 
are  come  now;  and  I  expect  we  shall  find  some  one  here 
waiting  for  us. ' ' 


CHAPTER  X. 

FAITH    WITHOUT   WORKS. 

aitv  exw)/  d.\&\rnj.aol£vi>— 
Wherever  I  roam,  suffering  unceasingly  attends  me. 

{Homer:  Od.  xi.  i6j.) 

I T  was  a  strange  place  to  which  Merton  had  come.  The 
town  was  composed  chiefly  of  one  short  street,  formed 
of  detached,  low-built  houses,  and  dilapidated  stores.  The 
side- walks  were  as  irregular  as  waves  on  the  ocean's  beach ; 
and  in  front  of  the  stores,sat  men  puffing  volumes  of  smoke 
from  their  cherished  pipes,  and  talking  of  politics  and  re- 
ligion. Among  them  was  Mr.  Smalleyes,  who  had  come 
for  the  purpose  of  taking  Merton, in  his  carriage, to  his  new 
appointment,  a  place  ten  miles  distant  from  the  railroad 
depot. 

Merton  was  to  preach  at  three  points,  namely,  Mazar, 
Moth,  and  Budds.  At  Mazar, his  place  of  residence,  there 
was  neither  church  nor  meeting-house,  but  the  rudiments 
of  a  village;  at  Moth  there  was  anice  little  church, but  no 
village;  and  at  Budds  there  was  neither  church  nor  village, 
the  preaching  being  done  in  a  school-house. 

In  making  his  pastoral  visits,  Merton  first  called  on 
Mrs.  Rattlebones.  Here  poverty  reigned,  her  prime- 
ministers  being  laziness  and  intemperance.  Merton  was 
not  invited  to  a  seat,  for  there  was  no  such  thing  in  the 
house.  Filthy  as  this  dwelling  was,  they  knelt  together 
in  prayer;  and  the  heart  of  the  wretched  woman  seemed 
comforted.  The  chief  cause  of  the  filth  and  squalor  sur- 
rounding this  poor  creature,  who  had  seen  better  days, was 
her  good-for-nothing  husband,  who  roamed  at  large  as  a 

philosopher,  when  he  was  not  drunk  in  the  nearest  village. 

104 


FAITH    WITHOUT    WORKS.  IO5 

A  short  time  after  making  this  visit,  Merton  was  play- 
ing a  game  of  croquet  with  the  Misses  Smalleyes.when  Mr. 
Rattlebones   chanced   to  pass   by.       Seeing  Merton,   he 
entered  the  yard,  approached  him,  and  said: 

"Wa-a-1  now!  I  have  played  at  almost  every  kind  of 
game  in  Christendom,  and  with  almost  all  the  ladies  in 
this  yer  country;  but  that  game  beats  me.  What  do  you 
call  it?" 

Merton  answered  it  was  croquet,  at  the  same  time  in- 
viting him  to  join  them. 

"I  reckon  not,"  he  replied.  "Whenever  I  indulge  in 
such  low  games,  I  allers  find  myself  unfit  afterwards  for 
higher  pursuits.  Different  men  have  different  constertu- 
tions.  It  may  be  that  I  was  made  a  leetle  too  fine  for  the 
common  things  of  this  yer  world;  but  we  all,  you  know, 
must  do  the  best  we  know  how  with  the  stuff  the  Man 
above  has  given  us.  At  least  them's  my  sentiments.  I 
don't  say  this  to  disturb  the  elder.  Perhaps  he's  one  of 
those  tough  ones;  if  so,  I  say  go  right  on, and  enjoy  your- 
selves. If  I  could  so  demean  myself,  I  would  jine  you  in 
a  minute." 

What  reply  could  be  given  such  a  man?  Merton 
looked  at  him  for  a  moment, and  saw  what  might  be  called 
the  very  incarnation  of  drunkenness.  His  limbs  were 
trembling,  his  eyes  blood-shot,  his  visage  pale  and 
shriveled,  his  whole  frame  fleshless,  and  his  general 
appearance  revolting  in  the  extreme.  After  a  moment's 
hesitation,  Merton  replied: 

"You  do  right,  sir,  in  not  abusing  your  finely  consti- 
tuted organism,  or  impairing  your  very  delicate,  mental 
powers;  but  I  sincerely  hope  that  you'll  never  use  any 
other  means  more  likely  to  accomplish  these  results,  than 
the  playing  at  croquet." 

"You  can  bet  on  that,  elder,"  he  said,  "I  allers  take 


106  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

care  of  myself.  The  Man  above  commands  us  to  do  that ; 
and  my  mother  brought  me  up  that  way.  Train  a  child 
up,  elder,  in  the  way  he  should  go;  and  when  he  comes 
old,  he'll  not  depart  from  it.  That's  Gospel,  elder,  isn't 
it?" 

Mr.  Smalleyes  then  made  his  appearance.  After  shak- 
ing hands  with  Merton,  he  said: 

"That  was  a  fine  sermon  you  gave  us  yesterday,  elder; 
everybody  was  much  delighted.  To-day  they  are  all 
talking  of  our  good  luck  in  getting  you  here.  Our  last 
preacher  was  one  of  the  best  we've  ever  had  in  Moth;  and 
he  was  as  lazy  as  he  could  be.  Mr.  Beereyed  said  that 
he  should  have  been  sent  to  chop  wood,  the  only  thing 
Nature  had  fitted  him  to  do.  Before  this  fellow, we  had  a 
preacher  who  was  enough  to  disgust  anybody.  Even 
while  preaching  his  sermon, he  would  chew  and  spit  to- 
bacco; and  when  visiting  us,  he  not  unfrequently  would 
lift  the  rug, and  spit  under  it.  I  have  seen  him  spit  right 
across  the  parlor.  It  is  because  of  such  men,  Brother 
Merton,  that  our  church  here  has  been  disgraced,  and 
made  a  nest  of  discord. 

"  I  am  glad,"  replied  Merton,  "that  the  people  are 
pleased  at  my  efforts;  but  I  am  truly  sorry  to  know  that 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  nest  of  discord  here.  Yesterday 
I  saw  very  many  intelligent  people  in  the  congregation;  I 
must  say  that  I  was  surprised  at  their  general  appearance. 
With  such  intelligence,  how  can  you  permit  a  nest  of  dis- 
cord to  be  found  in  your  social  tree?  There  was  one  lady 
who  sat  in  front,  near  the  aisle.  She  was  a  fine-looking 
person,  and  seemingly  well  educated.  Do  you  know  to 
whom  I  refer?" 

"The  name  of  that  woman,  Brother  Merton,  is  Mrs. 
Woundedheart.  She  is,  indeed,  an  educated  woman,  and 
therefore  the  more  to  be  feared.     She  is  the  most  danger- 


FAITH   WITHOUT   WORKS.  107 

ous  person  in  your  charge.  My  advice  to  you  is,  keep 
away  from  her.  Although  a  woman,  she  has  the  serpent's 
sting.  Charm  you  she  may  at  first ;  but  as  truly  as  you 
visit  her,  so  truly  will  you  curse  the  day." 

In  a  few  days  Merton  found  himself  knocking  at  the 
door  of  Mrs.  Woundedheart's  residence.  He  felt  a  longing 
desire  to  know  something  more  of  this  woman  with  the 
"adder's  sting."  The  door  was  opened  by  a  very  pretty 
young  girl,  of  about  eighteen  years.  She  recognized 
Merton,  and  invited  him  in,  saying  her  mother  would  be 
there  in  a  moment. 

"How  do  you  do,  Brother  Merton?"  said  the  lady. 
"This  is  indeed  an  unexpected  pleasure.  I  little  sup- 
posed that  our  new  pastor  would  dare  show  such 
kindness  to  me,  while  he  was  staying  at  our  near  neigh- 
bor's. I  am  sorry  to  tell  you,  Brother  Merton,  that  I  am 
not  very  regular  in  my  attendance  at  service;  indeed,  I 
scarcely  ever  go  to  church  at  all.  Our  church  here  is  all  in 
disorder.  I  suppose  you've  already  discovered  that;  if 
not,  I  assure  you,  you  soon  will.  People  have  no  confi- 
dence in  the  leaders,  none  at  all.  My  husband  will 
never  go  again.  He  says  he  can  worship  much  better 
under  the  poplar,  than  with  a  band  of  hypocrites.  Mr. 
Smalleyes,  your  leading  man,. is  as  mean  a  man  as  this 
world  has  ever  known.  The  truth  is,  he  makes  it  his 
chief  business  to  lie  about  me  and  mine.  He  tried  for 
years  to  ruin  us.  We've  had  several  law  suits  with  him, 
and  there  are  more  to  come.  He  has  tried  even  to  blast 
the  character  of  my  daughter  here,  and  he  has  nearly 
ruined  my  son.  He  is  a  very  wicked  man,  and  his 
chief  assistant  is  Mr.  Beereyed,  who  is  drunk  on  whiskey 
one  day,  and  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost  the  next.  My  son 
says  that  Smalleyes  makes  the  bullets,  and  that  Beereyed 
shoots  them.  Mr. Smalleyes, you  know, is  a  coward,  and  gets 


108  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

Mr.  Beereyed  to  do  openly  what  he  contrives  in  secret." 
"My  dear  Mrs.  Woundedheart,  I  do  not  see  how  you 
can  suppose  I  should  know  that  Mr.  Smalleyes  is  a  cow- 
ard. We  came  to  see  you,  and  know  you.  We  wish  you 
to  come  to  our  services,  and  help  us  build  up  the  work. 
Never  mind  Mr.  Smalleyes.  Perhaps  if  you  should  return 
kindness  for  the  injury  you  suppose  he  has  done  you,  it 
might  be  the  best  medicine  you  could  give  the  disease  as 
it  exists.  But  do  not  tell  me  any  more  about  Mr.  Small- 
eyes.  You  are  a  lady  of  superior  education,  of  refinement, 
and  must  know  the  evil  effects  of  such  bitter  feeling  among 
the  scattered  parishioners  that  generally  compose  these 
country  congregations.  Under  present  conditions,  no  suc- 
cessful church  work,  I  fear,  is  possible.  Your  minister's 
spirit  must  be  broken,  and  the  church  pews  remain  empty, 
unless  this  bitterness  be  put  away.  How  much  happier 
were  your  own  heart,  how  much  brighter  your  own  home, 
if  you  would  only  consent  to  let  that  spirit  govern  you, 
which  ever  manifested  itself  in  the  life  of  him  whose  fol- 
lowers we  profess  to  be.  I  do  not  say  the  blame  lies  with 
you;  but  I  do  say  that  a  woman  so  superior  to  her  neigh- 
bors as  you  are  known  to  be,  should  seek  to  use  the  gifts 
with  which  God  has  blessed  her,  to  soothe  rather  than  irri- 
tate, to  comfort  rather  than  trouble,  and  to  win  by  words 
of  kindness  rather  than  repel  by  provocation.  I  do  believe, 
Mrs.  Woundedheart,  that  no  investment  brings  the  human 
soul  such  wonderful  returns  as  that  of  kindness  or  forgive- 
ness. And  as  we  invest  it,  our  stock  is  more  and  more 
increased,  while  all  the  parties  interested  are  equally 
benefited. ' ' 

"Excuse  me,Mr.Merton,but  I  feel  I  must  unburden  my 
griefs  to  you;  it  will  greatly  help  me  to  do  so.  I  have  no  de- 
sire to  speak  evil  of  any  one;  but  I  mention  who  are  the 
chief  officers  in  our  church  here.   I  gave  you  but  two  of  the 


FAITH    WITHOUT    WORKS.  109 

names.  Another  one  is  Mr.  Longshanks.  He  is  not  so  bad 
as  the  other  two.  His  wickedness  is  chiefly  against  himself, 
in  filling  himself  up  with  whiskey,  with  which  he  keeps  his 
cellar  well  supplied.  He  is  a  trustee  ;  but  nobody  puts  any 
confidence  in  his  word.  If  he  sells,  he  gets  as  much  as  pos- 
sible ;  if  he  buys,  he  gives  as  little  as  possible.  As  far  as 
that  goes,  his  hand  is  against  everybody,  and  everybody  is 
against  him  ;  but,  still,  I  think  he  is  about  the  best  member 
you  have  in  your  church  here,  and  he  doesn't  profess  to 
have  any  religion  ;  indeed  !  he  laughs  at  it.  The  best  men 
we  have  here,  never  go  to  church  ;  they  have  had  too  much 
of  it  already.  Mr.  Hardtocrack,  for  instance,  is  as  good  as 
a  man  can  be  ;  but  he  never  goes  to  church.  He  had  a 
very  pretty  daughter  to  whom  Mr.  Smalleyes'  son  was  en. 
gaged.  While  in  this  relation,  this  young  blackguard  be- 
trayed her.  What  did  his  father  do?  Why  he  sent  him  out 
of  the  country,  and  left  the  poor  girl  to  live  in  open  shame. 
Mr.  Backslider  is  another  good  man.  He  had  made  a  note 
promising  to  pay  the  church  authorities  the  sum  of  two  hun- 
dred dollars  toward  building  the  church  here.  Things  went 
against  him.  His  note  became  due  ;  he  couldn't  pay  it. 
Mr.  Smalleyes  thereupon  sued  him,  and  forced  him  to  sell 
what  little  stock  he  had  to  meet  it.  He  now  spends  all  his 
spare  time  in  cursing  the  Methodists.  Mr.  Blackbird  was 
treated  in  like  manner,  and  to-day  is  a  bitter  enemy  to  the 
church.  The  minister  went  around  with  a  subscription- 
paper  ;  Mr.  Blackbird  signed  it ;  his  promise  became  due  ; 
he  was  unable  to  meet  it ;  he  was  sued,  and  forced  to  pay  it 
at  the  expense  of  selling  his  stock.  Even  the  church  build- 
ing was  built  in  a  very  strange  way.  They  went  around 
with  a  subscription-paper,  with  the  understanding  that  the 
church  should  be  built,  where  the  majority  of  the  subscribers 
should  vote  it  to  be  built.  When  the  money  was  all  pledged, 
an   official   meeting   was   held,  at  which   it  was  decided  to 


IIO  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

build  it  where  it  now  stands,  Mr.  Smalleyes  influencing 
the  meeting  by  promising  the  church  sufficient  land  to 
keep  a  cow,  and  make  a  garden  for  the  minister.  But  in 
the  deed  he  gave,  he  took  care  to  have  inserted  a  clause, 
whereby  the  land  all  reverts  to  him  in  ten  years,  unless 
certain  conditions  are  fulfilled.  These  ten  years  are  almost 
expired;  and  if  you  folks  are  not  careful,  he  will  soon  possess 
the  land  again.  He  has  been  raising  corn  on  it  for  years, 
without  paying  one  cent  rent.  He  should  be  made  to  pay 
rent  in  full  with  interest.  With  that  money  they  would 
soon  have  a  round  sum  toward  building  a  parsonage. ' ' 

Merton  left  Mrs.  Woundedheart's  with  a  sore  heart. 
She  was  a  woman  of  education,  and  had  been  well  raised; 
but  her  heart  was  so  full  of  bitterness,  that  there  was 
scarcely  room  in  it  for  the  good  thoughts  it  once  contain- 
ed, nor  for  that  charity  which  all  should  feel  for  their 
fellow-men. 

Merton  had  hoped  to  escape  horseback  riding  by  leav- 
ing his  old  appointment;  but  in  this  respect  his  hopes 
were  not  realized.  To  reach  one  of  his  stations,  he  had 
now  to  travel  on  horseback  twenty-eight  miles.  Yet,  for 
many  reasons,  his  present  appointment  was  better  than 
the  former.  His  salary  was  larger  and  more  certain,  and 
he  had  a  parsonage  to  live  in.  Often,  however,  his  soul 
would  rebel  against  filling  his  scattered  appointments; 
especially  when  he  found  such  animosity  existing  in  the 
hearts  of  the  members  of  his  charge.  The  words  of  the 
bishop,  at  the  conference,  were  ringing  in  his  ears: 
"You  would  have  done  much  better,  had  you  remained 
in  a  more  civilized  community."  And,  then,  the  know- 
ledge that  so  many  inferior  men  filled  the  most  important 
positions,  made  his  lot  still  harder  to  bear.  At  such  times 
the  words  of  Marcus  Aurelius: 

"If  a  thing  is  good  to  be  said  or  done, 
Do  not  think  it  unworthy  of  thee." 


FAITH   WITHOUT   WORKS.  Ill 

would  give  him  courage   to  persevere;   for,   surely,   the 
work  he  was  doing  was  a  noble  one. 

Merton  found  the  people  at  Budds  far  superior  to  any 
other  on  his  charge,  more  educated,  more  united,  and 
more  generous.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  preach  to  such. 
On  his  return  he  was  glad  to  reveal  this  fact  to  Sunshine. 
She  was  comforted  with  his  report,  and  said:  "I  do  hope 
you  will  not  hear  so  much  abuse  there.  Do  you  not  fear 
a  person  who  has  so  much  evil  to  tell  about  his  neighbor  ? 
I  myself  believe  that  he  who  acts  thus  in  regard  to  an- 
other, will  do  so  in  regard  to  us,  when  any  occasion 
arises,  real  or  imaginary.  She  who  carries  a  secret  in  her 
open  hand,  hides  a  dagger  in  her  sleeve.  Do  you  not 
fear  its  point?" 

"Sunshine,  I  confess  I  do;  but  I  will  try  to  wear  an 
impenetrable  armor.  There  is  plenty  of  poisonous  mi- 
asma on  my  circuit.  Its  poison,  I  think,  can  best  be 
guarded  against  by  keeping  within  the  influence  of  the 
rays  of  your  sun.  I  do  believe  a  woman  like  you  has  a 
very  subduing  power  over- the  naughty  tongues  of  still 
more  naughty  people.  When  we  come  to  open  war,  I 
think  I  will  push  you  to  the  front.  Wouldn't  that  be  the 
right  way  to  do?" 

"It  would  certainly  be  the  way  for  you  to  escape,  if 
you  would  like  to  do  that  at  the  cost  of  my  life;  but  I  have 
no  fear  of  going  to  the  front.  I  know  you  will  take  care 
of  me,  Harry;  but  how  to  take  care  of  you,  is  the  prob- 
lem." 

"Sunshine,  we  will  walk  a  straight  course;  and  let  us 
hope  and  pray  that  God  will  take  care  of  us  both." 

"Harry,  how  do  you  really  like  your  work?  I'm 
afraid  that  your  endeavor  to  bring  harmony  out  of  the 
existing  discord,  and  order  out  of  the  present  chaos,  will 
make  you  ill,  or  break  you  completely   down.     Day   and 


112  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

night  you  think  of  nothing  else  than  how  best  to  heal  old 
sores,  unite  divided  parts,  and  get  a  little  bread  to  eat. 
The  work  you  are  doing,  is  noble,  no  doubt;  but  I'm  cer- 
tain you  might  do  a  similar  work  in  a  more  agreeable 
place.  The  seed  you  sow  is  more  than  the  harvest  you 
can  expect  to  reap. ' ' 

"Sunshine,  do  not  forget  the  lines: 

'We  have  no  right  to  bliss, 
No  title  from  the  gods  to  welfare  and  repose.'  " 

"Repose  is  one  thing,  Harry,  and  agreeable  activity 
another.  I  do  not  ask  repose  or  bliss,  but  such  activity 
as  may  be  conducive  to  the  real  good  of  all  concerned." 

"Here  is  Mr.  Smalleyes,  Sunshine.  Let  us  hear  what 
he  has  to  say  about  my  prospects  in  Mazar. ' ' 

"Mr.  Smalleyes,"  said  Merton,  "there  is  a  good  deal 
of  apparent,  spiritual  life  in  the  church  people  at  Mazar. 
Mr.  Fraudulent  especially  appears  to  be  an  unusually  act- 
ive man." 

"Have  you  ever  been  at  his  house,  Mr.  Merton?" 

"No,  sir;  I  have  not  been  there  as  yet.  I  hope,  how- 
ever, to  go  very  soon." 

"Don't  be  in  a  hurry,  Mr.  Merton;  I  think  you'll  be 
satisfied  with  one  visit.  They  have  a  large  farm,  and  are 
considered  very  well-to-do;  but  they  are  extremely  dirty 
people.  There  is  a  sickening  odor  in  their  house;  and 
the  old  woman  and  the  young  wife  have  faces  as  black 
as  a  man's  hat.  His  family,  however,  are  cleanliness 
itself  when  compared  to  his  cousin's.  In  the  home  of  the 
latter,  you  might  plow  up  the  dirt.  But,  then,  it  is  use- 
less, and  perhaps  wrong  in  me  telling  you  who  will  know 
it  soon  enough.  Besides,  I  am  not  a  man  to  talk  about 
my  neighbors.  I  say,  let  every  man  find  out  for  himself. 
It  is  more  satisfactory  all  around." 

"Has  Mr.  Fraudulent  been  a  member  very  long?     He 


FAITH    WITHOUT    WORKS.  113 

seems  to  be  a  man  of  genuine  piety." 

"That's  a  man,  Mr.  Merton,  who,  like  myself,  is  a 
trustee  of  the  church;  but  I  wouldn't  trust  him  for  a  cent, 
unless  I  wished  to  lose  it.  I  believe  he  would  cheat  his 
own  mother,  if  he  could.  He  is  the  tightest  man  about 
here  to  drive  a  bargain;  he'll  stand  bantering  an  hour  for 
a  cent.  You'll  know  Bro.  Fraudulent  soon  enough,  un- 
less I'm  greatly  mistaken.  As  an  officer  of  the  church,  I 
have  often  had  occasion  to  come  into  intercourse  with 
him.     He  is  a  hard  case,  I  assure  you." 

Shortly  after  this,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Merton  accepted  an 
invitation  to  spend  two  weeks  at  the  residence  of  Mr. 
Longshanks,  who  was  a  very  wealthy  farmer,  and  had  a 
charming  woman  for  a  wife.  He  was  the  owner  of  about 
two  square  miles  of  as  valuable  land  as  could  be  found  in 
the  state,  and  had  it  stocked  with  a  great  number  of  fine 
cattle.  Both  he  and  his  wife  were  also  well  educated. 
Under  the  circumstances,  a  very  pleasant  visit  was  antici- 
pated. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

IMPUTED  RIGHTEOUSNESS. 

<rol  5'   oi'ei  Kpabir)  ffTeptur^pr]  tcrrl  Xidoio — 
Always  is  that  heart  of  thine  harder  than  stone. 

{Homer  :  Od.  xiii.  ioj). 

A  S  Mr.  and  Mrs.   Merton  drove  up  to  the  house,   Mr. 
Eongshanks  came  out  and  welcomed  them. 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  he  said.  "This  is  just  what  I  and  the 
old  woman  have  been  looking  for.  We're  going  to  feed 
you  on  red-legged  chickens,  if  they  don't  run  under  the 
barn.  I  want  to  feed  you  up,  so  that  you  may  give  us 
another  discourse  like  that  you  gave  us  last  Sunday.  It 
makes  me  feel  happy,  when  I  think  of  the  God-send  we 
have  this  year.  Ha!  ha!  ha!  Well,  we'll  do  our  best. 
Come  in;  come  in.   I  want  to  have  a  good  time  to-day." 

In  a  short  time  it  was  arranged  for  Mrs.  Eongshanks 
and  Mrs.  Merton  to  visit  the  city  together,  thus  leaving 
Mr.  Eongshanks  and  Merton  alone.  They  were  seated  in 
the  parlor,  when  Mr.  Eongshanks  began: 

"Well,  Brother  Merton,  tell  us  how  you  like  this  great 
and  glorious  country;  and  tell  us  how  you  like  your 
charge.  Don't  you  think  that  the  American  Eagle  should 
flap  its  wings  a  little  more  proudly,  when  hovering  over 
such  a  country  as  this?" 

"I  think  it  is  a  beautiful  country, sir,"  replied  Merton; 
"and  I  hope  to  see  prosperity  in  it.  That,  however,  must 
depend  not  a  little  on  such  as  yourself.  A  good  many 
make  light  work  of  doing  what  one  could  never 
accomplish." 

"I  presume  I  shall  do  my  part,  anyhow, Brother  Merton; 

but  I  don't  go  in  much,  and  never  did,  on  religion.     I  may 

as  well  say  the  truth  about  the  matter.       I  know  I'm  a 

a  church  member  and  a  steward;  that  I'll  readily  confess; 

114 


IMPUTED    RIGHTEOUSNESS.  115 

and  I  believe  I'm  what  they  call  a  trustee  ;  but  that  ends  it. 
I  don't  profess  to  be  a  saint  like  some  of  your  brethren." 

"It  seems  to  me,  Mr.  Longshanks,  that  a  thing  that's 
worth  doing,  is  worth  doing  well.  If  religion  is  worth  hav- 
ing, it  is  worth  having  in  its  purity.  It  is  good  for  a  man  to 
live  every  day,  as  if  it  were  his  last  day." 

"  That  I  don't  believe  is  possible,  Bro.  Merton.  I  con- 
sider such  sentimentality  good  enough  for  poetry,  but  it 
doesn't  make  good  prose." 

"  I  think  it  does,  Mr.  Longshanks.  Such  a  life  consists 
simply  of  doing  one's  duty.  Surely,  that  is  not  impossible. 
Nelson  expected  every  man  to  do  that." 

"  Many  beautiful  sayings  have  come  from  the  lips  of  men 
in  great  distress,  or  great  peril ;  but  take  life  as  we  find  it, 
and  I  deny  that  it  is  possible  at  all  times,  and  under  all  cir- 
cumstances, to  do  exactly  one's  duty." 

"  I  should  hardly  think  a  Christian  would   have   a   lower 

idea  of  life's  possibilities  than  a  heathen,  Mr.  Longshanks  ; 

yet  we  hear  Marcus  Aurelius  saying  : 

"  '  Since  it  is  possible  that  thou  mayest  depart  from  life 
this  moment,  regulate  every  act  and  thought  accordingly.'  " 

"I  hope,  Bro.  Merton,  to  make  some  progress  in  religion 
this  winter  ;  but  the  truth  is,  we've  had  such  a  pack  of 
howling  fools  sent  us  to  preach,  that  I'm  almost  sick  of  the 
name  of  religion.  The  last  fellow  we  had  sent  us,  would 
stand  upon  the  platform,  Sabbath  after  Sabbath,  and  deliver 
what  he  called  sermons,  something  that  showed  neither 
brains  nor  religion,  a  kind  of  hotel  hash  ;  but  he  would 
faithfully  visit  us,  whenever  he  wanted  a  five-dollar  bill.  He 
was  accused  of  lying,  stealing,  laziness  and  tale-bearing. 
The  greatest  fault  I  had  to  find  in  him,  was  that  he  hadn't 
brains  enough  to  last  him  over  night  He,  however,  was 
about  the  best  we've  had.  At  one  time  we  had  a  great  re- 
vivalist here,  who  took  with  the  people  immensely,  as  he  was 


Il6  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

considered  by  the  brethren  a  man  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost 
and  of  power.  It  was  not  long  before  it  was  discovered 
that  he  was  an  agent  for  a  disreputable  house  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  he  came  very  near  getting  several  young  girls  in 
his  hands.  Indeed  !  it  was  through  his  relations  with  them, 
that  his  whole  nefarious  scheme  was  brought  to  light.  I  tell 
you  !  when  this  became  known  the  brethren  were  struck 
with  consternation,  as  if  by  the  fall  of  the  tower  of  Babel. 
My  !  what  a  noise  there  was  in  the  camp  !  The  holy 
brethren  lost  the  power  to  say  '  amen  '  for  a  long  time.  I 
say,  Bro.  Merton,  what  do  you  think  of  revival  methods  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  been,  Mr.  Longshanks,  a  friend  of  them. 
I  have  always  seen  that  as  the  pendulum  swings  back  again 
on  attaining  its  maximum  height,  so  the  people  after  the 
spasmodic  efforts  of  revival  meetings,  fall  back  to  their 
normal  state,  having  spent  their  energies  in  vain.  In  addi- 
tion to  this,  I  have  witnessed  so  many  evils  at  such  exciting 
meetings,  as  have  made  me  an  enemy  to  them." 

"  Well,  Merton,  you  ought  to  have  been  present  at  one 
we  had  last  year.  Brother  Headstrong,  your  leading  man 
in  Mazar,  was  there.  He  is  the  most  ignorant  man  we  have 
around  ;  but  he  has  much  to  say  at  the  meetings.  At  the 
one  in  question,  after  the  preacher  had  tried  to  warm  up  the 
people  all  in  vain,  brother  Headstrong  arose  in  his  seat  and 
said  : 

"  '  Dear  friends,  the  sarpents  are  among  you,  the  fiery  sar- 
pents.  You're  in  the  wilderness  of  sin.  When  old  Moses 
was  leading  the  children  of  Israel,  the  sarpents  was  sent. 
Did  they  bite  the  good  folks  ?  No,  they  bit  the  wicked 
folks.  Just  so  in  like  manner  is  it  to-night.  You  can't  see 
them  with  your  material  eyes,  for  the  things  of  this  world 
discerneth  not  the  things  of  God  ;  but  with  my  spiritual 
eyes  I  see  them  all  around  you,  switching  their  fiery  tails. 
Soon  they  will  dart  their  fiery  forks   into  your  poor  souls  ; 


IMPUTED    RIGHTEOUSNESS.  II7 

then  what  will  you  clo  ?  Now  is  the  accepted  time.  Now 
is  the  day  of  salvation.  One  look  at  the  cross,  and  you  are 
saved.  And  now  is  the  time  for  Christians  to  tell  these 
poor  sinners  here  what  the  Lord  has  done  for  them.  If 
your  sins  is  forgiven,  brethren,  you  know  it,  and  you'll  tell 
it;  you'll  proclaim  it  on  the  house-top  ;  the  people  in  Gath 
will  hear  what  God  hath  done  for  the  children  of  men.  No 
man  can  set  in  his  seat,  and  have  the  power  ;  and  if  you 
haven't  the  power,  you're  none  of  His.  No  man  with  the 
Sperit  in  his  heart,  can  set  still  ;  for  where  the  Sperit  is, 
there  is  freedom.  Why,  bless  you,  brethren  and  sistern  !  I 
donnaw  what  to  do  to  set  still  a  moment.  The  power  fills 
my  whole  soul,  pushing  me  onward  and  upward  to  the  city 
of  the  New  Jerusalem.  I  fancy  I  can  see  them  now,  with 
all  their  harps,  and  flutes  ;  yes,  flutes  !  I  am  one  of  those 
who  loves  flutes  ;  they're  so  much  like  the  human  voice. 
Rise,  brethren  !  Tell  these  sinners  how  to  escape  the  fiery 
sarpents,  before  the  poison  from  their  fiery  tails  shall  curdle 
through  their  blood,  and  they  be  with  the  damned  cast  out 
forever.  Rise,  my  brethren  !  or  Gabriel  may  come  and 
scourge  you.' 

"  In  this  way,  he  went  on  until  I  could  stand  it  no  longer, 
Mertott.  I  had  to  burst  out  into  one  of  my  genuine  laughs. 
Ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  my  laugh  was  loud  and  long,  and  attracted 
the  attention  of  all  in  the  house.  For  this  thing  Mr.  Head- 
strong never  forgave  me  ;  but  I  couldn't  help  it  for  the  life 
of  me.  It  was  such  a  farce.  I  am  glad  you  don't  approve 
of  such  methods  in  religion.  As  for  me,  as  I  have  already 
said,  I  don't  profess  to  have  any  ;  but  I  guess  you'll  find 
me,  in  the  long  run,  about  as  good  as  the  best  of  them.  In 
money  matters  I'm  generally  on  hand,  Bro.  Merton;  and 
this  year  you  can  depend  on  me  doubling  my  former 
yearly  subscription.  I  am  willing  to  pay  for  a  good  thing, 
when  I  have  it.     As  for  helping  you  in  the  meetings,  you'll 


Il8  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL. 

find  enough  help  and  to  spare  of  that  sort  in  brother  Head- 
strong. He  can  talk  a  whole  regiment  to  death,  and  even 
shut  up  an  average  half-dozen  women.  He's  a  camp-meet- 
ing in  himself  alone.  But  let  me  advise  you  to  give  him 
plenty  of  rope.  Do  not  cross  him.  Give  him  his  way;  in- 
dulge him  in  his  conceit.  He  pays  well,  even  if  he  does 
talk  more  than  all  the  rest  put  together.  Brother  Fraudulent 
is  another  on  whom  you  can  depend  for  a  good  ghostly  ex- 
perience ;  but  he  doesn't  come  up  to  brother  Headstrong. 
I  say  again,  give  the  latter  his  way.  The  crazy  old  loon 
will  do  nobody  any  harm,  and  he  can  do  you  lots  of  good  : 
he  can  fill  your  pockets. 

"  Let  me  ask  you  what  is  to  be  done  about  our  church 
debt.  I  wish  to  say  to  you  in  confidence  that  I  have  given 
my  last  dime  to  that  cause;  not  to  save  the  whole  concern 
from  going  to  David  Jones'  locker,  would  I  give  another 
cent.  We  owe  nearly  a  thousand  dollars  to  the  Church  Ex- 
tension Society.  If  this  is  not  soon  paid,  the  church  build- 
ing may  be  sold.  For  my  part,  I  shouldn't  care  if  it  was; 
and  I  believe  hundreds  around  here  would  rejoice.  There 
have  been  far  more  wranglings  and  quarrels,  since  the  build- 
ing of  that  thing,  than  there  ever  were  before;  and  many 
think  a  bon-fire  is  the  very  best  use  it  could  serve.  Besides, 
everybody  believes  that  somebody's  pocket-book  was  pretty 
deep  at  the  building  of  that  church,  or  that  money  was 
dropped  into  a  big  hole  somewhere.  Without  doubt  the 
good  brethren  who  had  charge  of  that  matter,  are  believed, 
in  this  part  of  the  country,  to  have  fattened  up  considerably 
on  account  of  it.  But,  be  that  as  it  may,  I  will  not  pay  any 
more  toward  the  removal  of  the  debt.  I  have  paid  my 
share,  and  Longshanks  pays  no  more. 

"  Say,  Bro.  Merton,  tell  us  how  you  enjoyed  yourselves 
at  the  residence  of  our  very  polite  neighbors,  the  well  known 
and  far-famed  Smalleyes." 


IMPUTED    RIGHTEOUSNESS.  119 

"  We  enjoyed  ourselves,  while  visiting  them,  very  much. 
They  seemed  to  do  everything  possible  for  our  comfort. 
Indeed,  I  sometimes  felt  a  little  uncomfortable  at  their 
constant  exertions  to  make  things  agreeable  for  us." 

"  Dear  me,  Merton!  how  happy  I  should  be,  were  I 
such  a  father!  But  how  could  Longshanks  expect  to  father 
a  child  smart  enough  to  set  the  River  Thames  on  fire!  or 
beautiful  enough  to  resemble  a  cask  of  lager  beer,  as  Miss 
Columbine  does !  How  charming  she  looks  in  her  short 
dress!  Cleopatria  is  nothing  beside  her.  What  a  beautiful 
figure!  I  wonder  that  boys  should  persist  in  going  to  the 
city  in  search  for  a  base-ball,  when  we  have  such  a  charming 
one  at  home.  What  a  charming  bride  she'd  make!  I  fancy 
I  can  see  her  now.  With  what  grace  she  moves!  Majesty 
decks  her  brow,  and  virtue  adorns  her  person.  I  can  see 
her  enter  the  church,  swinging  on  the  arm  of  her  beloved. 
There  she  is  —  a  perfect  square,  four  feet  ten  by  four  feet 
ten!  Just  think  of  it,  almost  a  hundred  and  twenty-five 
solid  feet!  The  very  thought  of  it  makes  my  blood,  not 
cold,  as  they  say,  but  almost  boil.  What  a  prize  for  a  Her- 
cules !  I  don't  wonder  that  it  is  said  that  the  sons  of  God 
came  down,  and  took  to  themselves  as  wives  the  daughters 
of  men;  but  I  do  wonder  that  no  god  sees  his  chance  in  fair 
Columbine.  I  wonder  who  will  be  the  first  to  enter  into  the 
Promised  Land  ?  who  will  be  the  first  to  take  possession  of 
this  symmetrically  developed,  and  robust  young  goddess  ? 
who  will  lay  the  beds  of  roses  which  her  fair  form  may  give 
fragrance  to?  By  my  soul,  if  only  I  were  free  !  but  I'm 
bound  hand  and  feet,  as  if  to  a  column-stone;  and  I  fear 
the  stone  will  hold  me.  In  whatever  direction  you  look, 
you  see  the  marks  of  beauty  spreading  out  from  her,  as 
limbs  from  a  tree.  Happy  the  man  whose  fruitful  vine  is 
she!  In  the  mother  we  behold  the  moon,  in  the  father  the 
sun.     Or  I  sometimes  compare    Mr.  Smalleyes  to  Newton, 


120  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

and  his  charming  and  erudite  wife  to  Sappho.  O,  yes!  I 
understand  why  you  should  so  appreciate  your  entertain- 
ment there;  they  are  a  remarkable  family.  You'll  find 
that  out,  more  and  more,  as  they  have  the  opportunity 
of  displaying  to  you  their  wonderful  talents.  Have  a 
little  patience,  Brother  Merton,  and  your  delight  will 
rise  to  ecstasy." 

They  were  now  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  Mrs. 
Ivongshanks  and  Sunshine,  who  had  just  returned  from 
their  visit  to  the  city.  Merton  felt  their  coming  a  great 
relief  to  him;  for  he  hardly  knew  what  reply  he  could 
have  made  to  such  an  ironical  harangue.  Indeed,  he  was 
longing  once  more  to  receive  the  mild  rays  which  he 
always  felt  in  the  presence  of  his  wife. 

"Harry,"  said  Sunshine,  "you  can't  imagine  how 
kind  and  attentive  Mrs.  Longshanks  has  been  to  me.  She 
seemed  forgetful  of  herself,  looking  to  my  little  wants. 
When  returning  I  was  one  time  a  little  afraid ;  for  we  were 
pursued  by  some  run-away  horses,  which  almost  put  the 
spirit  of  flight  into  ours.  But  Mrs.Longshanks  is  so  strong! 
I  soon  found  out  there  was  not  much  cause  for  fear  with 
her.  When  speaking  of  you,  she  seemed  unable  to  use 
praise  enough.  She  said  she  never  knew  a  minister  she 
liked,  as  she  likes  you.  She  doesn't  profess  to  have  any 
religion;  but  I  really  believe  that  no  better  heart  can  be 
found  on  your  charge,  than  that  which  beats  in  the  breast 
of  Mrs.  Longshanks.  I  am  so  glad,  darling,  that  she  is 
such  a  friend  to  you.  It  does  your  Sunshine  good  to  hear 
you  praised.  Who  is  that,  Harry,  gone  into  the  other 
room  with  Mr.  Longshanks?" 

"I  think  it  is  Mr.  Fraudulent,  Sunshine.  I  remember 
hearing  Mr.  L,ongshanks  say  that  he  was  expecting  him. 
He  wishes  to  purchase  a  piece  of  land  from  Mr.  Long- 
shanks.  ' ' 

"Yes,  Mr.  Merton,"  said  Mrs.  Longshanks,  coming 


IMPUTED   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  121 

into  the  room,  "but  I  do  not  know  how  successful  Mr. 
Longshanks  will  be.  The  truth  is,  Mr.  Fraudulent 
wishes  to  purchase  it  at  his  own  price,  and  then  give  his 
note  for  it." 

"I  should  think  timber-land  the  most  valuable  you 
could  possess,  Mrs.  Longshanks, "  replied  Sunshine,  "in 
a  country  where  so  little  timber  is  found  growing. ' ' 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  L,ongshanks,  "it  is;  but  the  piece  in 
question  is  almost  valueless  to  us,  since  Mr.  Fraudulent 
lives  so  near  it.  He  has  already  taken  most  of  the  best 
timber,  and  the  balance  will  soon  go  the  same  way." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,"  said  Merton,  "that  Mr. 
Fraudulent,  a  steward  in  the  church,  would  fell  your 
trees,  and  steal  your  timber?" 

"Do  I  mean  to  say  so?"  replied  Mrs.  L,ongshanks. 
''You  had  better  ask  Mr.  Popelover,  Mr.  Merton;  he  can 
give  you  all  the  information  necessary  on  that  subject." 

"Mrs.  L,ongshanks,"  Merton  continued,  "you  can 
not  think  that  I  would  ask  for  such  information  concern- 
ing any  of  my  people;  but  I  say  to  you,  as  to  one  of  my 
own  flock,  is  it  possible  that  you  can  believe  Mr.  Fraud- 
ulent guilty  of  theft?" 

"Well,  then,  Mr.  Merton,  I  answer  emphatically,  yes." 

"I  can't  fix  him,"  said  Mr.  Lougshanks,  coming  into 
the  room.  "I  have  a  plan  though,  and  I  mean  to  bring 
him  to  terms.  The  farm  of  Mr.  Popelover  joins  that  of 
Fraudulent.  They  hate  one  another,  and  have  for  years. 
I  told  Fraudulent  that  Popelover  wanted  the  land.  The 
moment  I  said  that,  I  saw  him  wince,  as  under  the  smart 
of  a  whip.  He  knows  well  that,  if  Popelover  purchases  it, 
the  road  to  his  farm,  from  that  quarter,  will  be  cut  off; 
while  at  the  same  time  the  Popelover  farm  will  be  greatly 
increased  in  value.  Because  of  this  fact,  I  think  I  can 
make  a  lever  of  the  old  Popelover  to  lift  Fraudulent  with; 


122  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

and  if  I  don't  raise  his  hair,  then  my  name  isn't  what  my 
mother  gave  me. ' ' 

"Mr.  Longshanks,"  asked  Merton,  "do  you  think 
that  Mr.  Fraudulent  offered  you  a  fair  price  for  the  land  ?' ' 
"That's  not  the  question,  Bro.  Merton,"  replied  Mr. 
Longshanks.  "I  have  the  advantage  of  Fraudulent  now, 
for  the  first  time  for  many  years,  and  I  should  be  a  fool 
not  to  use  it.  Business  is  business  all  the  world  over. 
Besides,  I  have  no  reason  for  kindness  to  Fraudulent.  If 
I  had  justice  from  him,  I  should  receive  not  only  a  fair 
price  for  the  land,  but  also  the  full  interest  on  the  value 
of  the  timber  he  has  stolen  during  the  last  ten  years. ' ' 

"It  is  terrible,  Mr.  Longshanks,"  said  Merton,  "to 
hear  such  an  accusation  made  against  a  steward  in  the 
church.  How  do  you  suppose  I  should  regard  it,  were  I 
in  another  house,  and  should  hear  the  host  thus  make 
charges  against  you?" 

"I  don't  know  how  you  would  regard  it,"  answered 
Mr.  Longshanks;  "but  one  thing  I  do  know,  and  that  is, 
you  will  not  have  the  opportunity  of  hearing  any  host,  or 
anybody  else,  make  such  charges.  Longshanks  is  well 
known  around  here;  and  where  he's  known,  his  word  is 
as  good  as  his  note." 

"I  say  nothing  for  the  purpose  of  disturbing  your 
feelings,  Mr.  Longshanks,"  replied  Merton;  "but  I  am  so 
sorry  that  one  of  my  children  should  be  obliged  to  think 
so  much  evil  of  another.  I  think  children  of  the  same 
family,  in  God's  house,  should  try  to  look  over  one 
another's  faults;  and,  as  much  as  possible,  to  aid  one 
another  in  overcoming  the  difficulties  of  life.  Oh,  Mr. 
Longshanks!  I  sometimes  fear  the  gospel  affects  the  out- 
side more  than  -the  heart  within.  Christians  appear  no 
more  merciful  or  honorable  than  others  in  their  business 
transactions.     I  would   to  God  that   there  were  less   of 


IMPUTED   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  1 23 

dead,  and  more  of  living,  gospels  among  us. ' ' 

"Gospel  or  no  Gospel,  Brother  Merton,"  replied  Mr. 
Longshanks,  "my  experience  is,  'each  one  for  himself  and 
God  for  us  all. '  You  can  take  that  for  your  text  anywhere 
in  this  great  state,  and  it  will  be  received  as  the  only 
sound  business  principle  a  man  can  act  upon.  As  for  Mr. 
Fraudulent,  any  sympathy  you  may  have  for  him,  is  un- 
necessary, and  uncalled  for;  nor  would  he  thank  you  for 
it,  should  he  know  you  gave  it  to  him.  Skin  for  skin  is 
his  text;  and  I  know  well  that,  if  he  could,  he  would  eat 
me  skin  and  all.  He  wouldn't  hesitate  to  rob  his  brother, 
which  very  thing  he  is  believed  to  have  done.  I  am  sorry 
this  thing  should  have  occurred  in  your  presence,  as  you 
seem  to  have  a  surplus  of  what  my  favorite  poet  calls  the 
milk  of  human  kindness.  I  think,  however,  that  a  few 
years  experience  in  this  great  state  may  dry  up  somewhat 
the  fountain  which  at  present  yields  so  plentifully  with  you. 
L,et  us  hear  no  more  about  this  subject  now.  I  wish  to 
enjoy  your  company  while  with  us,  and  for  you  and  your 
wife  to  have  a  pleasant  visit.  You  are  welcome  to  any- 
thing we  have  in  our  house;  but,  please  let  Mr.  Fraudu- 
lent fight  his  own  battles;  and  as  he  is  a  much  larger  man 
than  you  are,  he  surely  is  able  to  do  it." 

It  was  about  a  month  after  this  conversation  that 
Merton,  sitting  one  evening  in  the  parsonage,  said  to  his 
wife: 

"I  now  know  all  the  stewards  and  trustees;  and  I  dc 
not  remember  ever  hearing  one  speak  well  of  another. 
I  had  hoped  that  the  officers  of  the  church  would  be  ex- 
emplary men.  Instead  of  that,  all  I  hear  is  one  accusing 
another  of  lying,  stealing,  drunkenness,  or  fraud.  My 
life-giving  Sunshine!  were  it  not  for  you,  I  should  sink 
away  under  the  thoughts  of  my  wounded  spirit.  What  a 
farce  is  the  profession  of  most    men!     What  a  superficial 


124  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

effect  has  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  on  their  lives!  It 
is  enough  verily  to  shake  the  faith  of  any  man  in  Christi- 
anity, as  the  only  divine  religion,  when  he  knows  and  sees 
the  conduct  of  its  adherents!  Do  the  members  of  our 
churches  live  any  better  lives  than  those  who  make  no 
profession  whatever?  I  have  my  doubts  that  they  do.  The 
ethics  of  Aristotle  or  Plato,  who  certainly  were  not 
Christians,  would  damn  to  the  very  depths  of  hell  the 
average  church-goer.  It  was  but  yesterday  that  a  sincere 
Christian  woman  said:  'The  churches  are  full  of  infidels'. 
There  is  more  truth  than  fiction  in  her  saying.  So-called 
Christian  civilization  differs  from  heathenism  more  be- 
cause of  its  power  to  wear  an  outside  garb,  than  because 
of  any  superior  inner  qualities. ' ' 

Merton  was  coming  to  see  more  and  more  that  the  true 
value  of  any  religious  faith,  should  be  measured  by  its 
power  to  make  men  better  in  this  world,  the  only  world 
we  know  anything  about.  But  such  evidence  as  he  had, 
went  to  prove  that  professors  were  no  kinder,  no  more 
charitable,  no  more  merciful,  no  more  forgiving,  no  more 
honorable  in  their  dealings — in  short, no  better  than  those 
who  made  no  profession;  indeed,  he  sometimes  thought 
that  the  latter  were  the  nobler  men.  Who  was  he  who 
first  called  on  them  in  their  new  home,  and  inquired  if 
they  were  comfortable  or  not?  He  was  one  of  the  so-called 
children  of  this  world.  Who  was  he  who  generously 
supplied  them  with  fuel  for  the  winter?  Was  he  a  Church 
member?  Verily  he  was  not.  He  was  but  one  of  those  who 
are  said  to  compose  the  family  of  Satan.  Truthfully  could 
they  say:  "We  were  sick,  and  the  world  visited  us;  nak- 
ed, and  it  clothed  us;  in  prison,  and  the  world  gave  us 
our  freedom;  hungry,  and  the  world  fed  us."  Yet, though 
Merton  was  heart-broken,  he  could  not  disbelieve  that 
true  religion  is  both  natural  and  valuable  to  man.  He  felt 
in  his  soul  convinced  that  the  faith  which  he  professed, 


IMPUTED   RIGHTEOUSNESS.  1 25 

could  not  be  a  true  one,  could  not  be  a  reasonable  one; 
and,  therefore,  not  such  as  might  naturally  be  expected  to 
make  its  adherents  better.  Nor  was  he  long  in  discover- 
ing, according  to  his  judgment,  the  vitiating  principle  in 
the  faith  of  those  to  whom  he  preached;  and  that  principle 
he  believed  to  be  faith  in  the  doctrines  of  vicarious  atone- 
ment, imputed  righteousness,  and  salvation  by  faith.  He 
could  not  but  see  that  belief  in  such  doctrines,  must  tend 
to  weaken  man's  perception  of  the  relation  necessarily 
existing  between  cause  and  effect,  and  make  him  less  fearful 
of  doing  wrong  from  the  dread  of  the  penalty  necessarily 
resulting.  If  a  man  believes  he  must  suffer  the  conse- 
quences of  his  own  actions,  he  is  likely,  from  fear  of  suf- 
fering, to  avoid  doing  wrong;  but  if  he  believe  he  can  lay 
his  sins  on  Jesus,  or  on  any  other  mediator,  he  is  not  likely 
to  be  so  careful  of  his  actions,  especially  when  by  erring  a 
little,  he  can,  as  he  thinks,  give  himself  some  kind  of 
enjoyment  or  gratification.  Being  fully  persuaded  of  the 
truth  of  these  conclusions,  in  all  his  sermons,  he  laid  but 
little,  if  any,  stress  on  the  doctrines  above  mentioned,  as, 
in  his  judgment,  vitiating;  but  all  stress  on  character,  as 
being  the  only  true  test  of  worthiness  in  this  world  or  that 
to  come.  That  which  would  best  prepare  man  to  live  in 
this  world,  he  held  would  best  prepare  him  to  live  in  any 
world.  His  sermons,  therefore,  would  naturally  become 
more  and  more  distasteful  to  the  ignorant  members  of  his 
charge,  who  believed  more  in  the  loudness  of  the  shout, 
and  the  depth  of  the  groan,  as  the  test  of  righteousness 
and  true  worth  in  God's  sight  than  in  the  life  and  action. 
His  doctrine  they  could  not  well  stand;  for  well  they  knew 
that  if  they  were  to  be  judged  by  their  works  rather  than 
their  faith,  a  very  large  percentage  of  them  would  be  shut 
completely  out  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  as  being  un- 
worthy to  dwell  with  those  who  have  washed  their  robes, 
and  made  them  white,  in  well  doing. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

BROTHERLY   LOVE. 

Xpeiw  fj.e  Ka.T7jya.yev  eh  ' Aidao — 
Necessity  compels  me  to  go  down  to  Hades. 

(Homer :  Od.  xi.  164.) 

Merton  had  not  been  long  established  in  his  new 
charge,  when  he  was  pressed  to  pass  a  day  or  two  at  the 
residence  of  Mr.  Squareman.  This  gentleman  was  a  very 
prosperous  farmer,  living  very  near  the  village,  and  own- 
ing a  large  house  having  fine  orchards  and  gardens  sur- 
rounding it.  Meeting  Merton  at  the  door,  Mr.  Square- 
man  greeted  him  very  heartily;  and  soon  they  were  seated 
in  the  comfortable  parlor. 

"We  are  right  glad  to  have  you  visit  us,  Bro.  Mer- 
ton," said  Mr.  Squareman;  "we  have  been  expecting  you 
for  some  time,  but  until  now  expecting  in  vain.  But  I 
suppose  it  has  been  with  you  as  with  other  preachers, — 
slanderous  tongues  have  kept  you  away." 

"Mr.  Squareman,"  said  Merton,  "your  supposition, 
I  assure  you,  has  no  foundation  whatever.  Besides, 
nothing  but  direct  refusal  to  see  me  ever  prevents  my 
calling  on  my  people.  They  are  all  alike  dear  to  me, — 
all  the  objects  of  my  solicitude.  When  they  rejoice,  I 
rejoice;  when  they  weep,  I  weep.     I  have  no  favorites." 

"Yes,  Bro.,  Merton,  that's  very  good,  very  beautiful," 
replied  Mr.  Squareman;  "but  you  don't  know  our  neigh- 
bors. Where  we  came  from,  people  felt  kindly  towards 
one  another;  but  here  all  are  one's  enemies.  The  chief 
officers  of  the  church  in  Mazar  delight  in  slander- 
ing and  lying.     Positively;  of  all  things  on  earth,  of  all 

126 


BROTHERLY   LOVE.  1 27 

the  sins  a  man  can  be  guilty  of,  I  do  think  slandering  is  the 
worst.  It  is  something  you  will  never  hear  in  this  house  ; 
we  shut  our  doors  against  it.  Of  course,  we  sometimes 
speak  the  truth  about  matters  ;  but  slander  is  something 
that  both  my  wife  and  I  consider  beneath  a  square  man.  If 
ever  we  speak  about  our  neighbors,  we  do  so  with  righteous 
judgment,  knowing  that  as  we  judge,  so  shall  we  be  judged. 
When  we  are  offended,  we  sometimes  let  the  world  know  it  ; 
and  no  man  that  ever  lived,  can  stand  what  the  officers  of 
the  church  in  this  place  do,  without  being  offended  and 
showing  it.  We  say,  it  would  be  a  sin  for  a  man  not  to  be 
offended,  when  truth  is  trodden  under  foot,  and  sin  walks  in 
high  places.  Look  at  that  Meekface,  for  instance.  What 
a  man  to  be  a  steward  in  a  church  !  He  has  done  all  he  could 
against  me  in  a  law-suit,  and  has  been  the  means  of  my 
losing  hundreds  of  dollars.  From  the  very  beginning,  he 
has  been  an  enemy  to  me,  although  a  brother-member.  To 
tell  the  truth,  Bro.  Mertou,  that  man  can't  possibly  repeat 
what  he  hears,  without  changing  it  so  that  no  man  would 
know  it.  His  whole  family  are  natural  liars.  It's  a  disease 
that's  hereditary  in  the  whole  Meekface  family.  What  I'm 
saying  is  no  news  to  you  ;  it's  impossible  that  it  should  be. 
No  man  could  live  around  here  two  months,  without  know- 
ing the  reputation  of  that  family." 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Squareman  !  excuse  me,  I  beg  you, but 
what  you  say,  is  certainly  news  to  me  ;  and  since  I  hate  to 
be  made  the  keeper  of  secrets,  let  me  beg  of  you  to  say  no 
more  about  the  Meekface  family.  Let  us  talk  about  each 
other.  We  know  ourselves  so  much  better  than  we  know 
Mr.  Meekface.  " 

"  That's  all  right,  Merton,  and,  so  far  as  that  goes,  very 
well  said  ;  but  as  I  was  saying,  I  wouldn't  trust  that  fellow 
the  length  of  my  nose.  Indeed,  I  have  a  dog  here  that's 
better   at  heart  than   he   is.     If  things  arn't   altered    here 


128  FOOTPRINTS    OF    A    SOUL. 

pretty  soon,  the  church  will  go  to  the  ground.  We've  had 
preachers  here  that  wouldn't  even  call  upon  us,  because  of 
the  lies  of  that  man  and  some  of  his  imps.  Such  preachers 
I  consider  unworthy  of  notice.  You're  welcome,  sir,  wel- 
come, and  I  hope  at  all  times  that  you'll  find  me  a  square 
man. 

"  The  last  minister  here  wasn't  as  good  a  man  as  his  wife, 
by  a  long  shot.  The  fellow  here  before  him, — well,  he  was 
a  fool  born  and  bred.  You  could  see  it  in  his  face,  and 
know  it  by  his  speech.  But  that  isn't  the  worst  of  it — Just 
think  of  a  minister  living  with  another  man's  wife,  as  he  did. 
Why  I've  heard  his  own  children  swear  that  he  wasn't  their 
father.  What  an  example  for  a  community  !  And,  then,  of 
all  liars,  he'd  beat  all  ;  why  !  he  was  worse  than  Tom  Pep- 
per;  and  you  know  what  the  folks  say  of  him.  After  he'd 
been  going  around  here  for  a  long  time  lying  about  me,  I 
met  him  one  day,  coming  up  the  hill  here  by  the  house.  I 
stopped  him  as  a  square  man  would  ;  indeed  !  I  stopped  him 
as  I'd  stop  my  dog,  and  gave  him  a  piece  of  my  mind. 
You  ought  to  have  seen  him.  Why  !  he  was  ashamed  to  be 
seen;  he  couldn't  look  me  in  the  face  for  a  moment,  but 
stammered  and  stuttered,  and  hung  down  his  head  like  a 
whipped  cur.  I  don't  care  who  the  man  is,  Bro.  Merton; 
but  I  speak  my  mind,  and  that's  the  way  some  say  that  I'm 
peculiar,  that  I'm  not  converted,  that  I  haven't  the  power. 
I'll  tell  you,  I  don't  want  conversion,  if  such  hypocrites  as 
we  have  around  here,  are  converted.  Thank  God  !  I  was 
converted  many  years  ago  ;  but  I  don't  want  the  prayers  of 
those  who  are  almost  past  repentance,  and  who  are  hardly 
fit  to  pray  for  themselves.  '  Physician,  heal  thyself, '  is  what 
I  say  to  such.  No  kiss  of  a  Judas  for  me  !  Squareman 
akes  no  part  in  such  mean,  dirty  business.  I  tell  you  what 
it  is  :  If  I  could  sell  my  farm,  I'd  soon  make  short  work  of 
it, — I'd    soon    pull    up    my   stakes,  and  quit  this  country. 


BROTHERLY  LOVE.  1 29 

'Tisn't  fit  for  a  decent  man  to  live  in.  The  very  face  of 
that  Meekface  condemns  him.  I  tell  }tou,  Bro.  Merton, 
I  speak  the  truth  when  I  say  I  wouldn't  believe  him  on 
his  oath.   I  don't  believe  he  knows  how  to  tell  the  truth. 

"Another  of  your  principal  men  is  Bro.  Fraudulent. 
Not  long  ago  I  needed  a  hundred  dollars  for  a  year.  When 
I  asked  him  for  the  loan,  he  told  me  money  was  scarce,  and 
wanted  twelve  per  cent  and  good  security.  I  said  to  him: 
'IyOok  here,  Bro.  Fraudulent,  I'll  give  you  twelve  per  cent, 
and  good  security.  That  security  is  my  word.  If  my 
promise, as  a  member  of  the  same  church, isn't  good  enough, 
I  won't  give  you  any  better  security.'  Well,  I  couldn't  get 
the  money;  but  I  afterwards  went  to  a  sinner,  and  got  it  on 
my  own  terms.  At  another  time  I  asked  him  for  a  small 
loan.  He  said  he  had  no  money;  at  the  same  time  I  was 
certain  that  he  had  not  less  than  two  hundred  dollars  in 
the  house.  The  whole  community  will  join  me  in  saying, 
there  isn't  a  bigger  rascal  outside  the  state's  prison." 

"Mr.  Squareman,"  asked  Merton,  "how  far  does  Mr. 
Headstrong  live  from  here?" 

"Haven't  you  been  there  yet,  Bro.  Merton?" 

"No,  sir,"  said  Merton. 

"Well,  Bro.  Merton, you'll  be  there  soon  enough.  Don't 
be  in  too  much  of  a  hurry.  We  know  something  of  that 
man.  When  we  first  came  here  we  stayed  some  time  with 
him;  but  we  paid  full  price  for  everything  we  received. 
What  did  that  fellow  do  but  blab  all  around  that  he  had  kept 
us  there  for  nothing!  I  tell  you,  Bro.  Merton,  that  fellow 
is  not  a  square  man.  He  has  a  fine  farm  and  some  money ; 
how  he  got  it,  God  knows.  In  the  early  days,  he  went 
to  California.  I  expect  it  was  there  he  fell  accidentally 
upon  his  money;  for  it  does  not  seem  to  me  that  he  ever 
could  have  gotten  it  in  a  community  where  one  has  to 
work  for  what  he  gets.     Bro.  Headstrong  is  not  a  square 


I30  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A    SOUL. 

man,  and  he  has  no  more  sense  than  my  old  boot;  nobody 
has  any  faith  in  his  words.  He  has  a  boy  that  he  thinks 
very  smart;  but  I  regard  him  as  a  soft-head.  The  boy  has 
made  some  signs  and  scratches,  and  he  and  some  other  fel- 
low correspond  with  them  on  postal-cards.  Because  he  does 
this,  they  think  him  very  smart.  I'd  like  to  know  how  a  boy 
could  be  considered  smart  for  corresponding  in  a  language 
that  nobody  knows  anything  about,  except  himself  and  some 
other  fellow  just  as  foolish.  I  am  sure  that  the  people 
around  here  will  join  me  in  saying  that  all  the  Headstrong 
family  haven't  brains  enough  to  last  them  over  night.  Of 
course,  you  couldn't  make  him  believe  it;  he  thinks  he  is  the 
greatest  man  around  here.  He  tells  everybody  that  with- 
out him  the  church  in  Mazar  couldn't  possibly  stand.  On 
the  contrary,  nobody  of  common-sense  believes  it  can  stand 
with  him.  It  beats  all  to  see  what  church  officers  you  have 
in  Mazar.  What  a  trio,  Headstrong,  Meekface,  and  Fraud- 
ulent! I  tell  you  what  it  is,  the  church  that  stands  on  such 
a  foundation,  stands  on  the  sand,  and  must  fall,  when  the 
winds  blow  and  the  rains  descend.  And  I  say,  let  it  fall. 
"Brother  Headstrong  has  a  near  neighbor  who  used  to 
be  in  the  church,  and  he's  one  of  the  very  best  fellows  in 
the  whole  community.  In  the  church,  he  used  to  be  quite 
active,  doing  whatever  his  hand  found  to  do,  working  like  a 
member  of  the  Lord's  kingdom  should  work.  How  did 
Headstrong  treat,  him  ?  He  had  a  favorite  dog,  a  very  rare 
kind,  and  one  which  a  man  would  be  proud  to  own  any- 
where; and  out  of  mere  envy,  the  old  Headstrong,  because 
he  didn't  possess  such  a  one  himself,  shot  him,  pretend- 
ing he  was  worrying  some  of  his  sheep.  In  this  way,  by 
one  act  after  another,  Headstrong  drove  him  out  of  the 
church;  for  how  could  any  man  remain  in  a  church,  where 
he  received  such  treatment  from  the  hands  of  the  very  pillar 
of  it!     From  that  time  to  this,  he  regards  Headstrong  as  the 


BROTHERLY   LOVE.  131 

very  image  of  sin;  which,  I  think,  is  a  merciful  judgment, 
for  I  sometimes  imagine  he  is  sin  itself." 

"  But,  Mr.  Squareman,  would  it  not  be  best  for  you  to 
go  to  these  men  of  whom  you  are  speaking,  make  your 
complaint  known  to  them,  and  endeavor  to  come  to  an 
understanding  ? " 

"  I  have  tried  that,  often  enough,  Bro.  Merton.  I 
wouldn't  say  what  I  have,  if  I  didn't  hope  that  you  might 
be  able  to  get  them  to  see  their  wickedness,  and  get  their 
heart  changed." 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Squareman;  I  shall  always  do  the  little 
I  can  to  bring  about  harmony  among  my  people.  But  in 
speaking  of  others,  I  know  of  only  one  just  rule:  never  speak 
evil  of  others,  except  before  their  face.  There  may  be  ex- 
ceptions to  this  rule,  Mr.  Squareman;  but  I  am  sure,  if  you 
and  I  should  act  according  to  it,  it  would  be  very  much 
better.  I  have  no  doubt  you  have  grievances  against  the 
men  you  speak  of;  but  did  you  ever  think  that,  in  their 
heart,  they  believe  they  have  equal  grievances  against  you  ? 
I  visit  their  homes,  and  without  a  doubt  they  speak  of  your 
ill-treatment  of  them.  In  such  case,  what  can  I  do  ?  I  do 
believe  that  if  you  brethren  were  to  meet  one  another  in  a 
conciliatory  spirit,  you  would  find  most  of  your  reasons  for 
ill-feeling  would  disappear,  as  snow  before  the  sun.  If  you 
yourself  would  only  go  half  way,  I  think  your  apparent 
enemies  would  come  to  meet  you." 

"  Yes,  Bro.  Merton,  that  may  be.  But  the  truth  is,  I 
have  all  I  can  do  to  attend  to  my  own  affairs.  I  wouldn't  go 
the  length  of  my  nose  to  meet  a  man  like  Meekface,  whom  I 
consider  as  surly  as  my  dog." 

"  But,  Mr.  Squareman,  I  ask  you  not  to  do  this  for  your 
own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  Christ  and  his  church.  Surely, 
if  we  are  not  willing  to  forgive,  we  can  not  expect  to  be  for- 
given.    We  pray  to  be  forgiven,  as  we  forgive  others." 


132  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

"Yes,  Bro.  Merton,  but  you  don't  catch  me  kneeling  to 
such  men  as  those;  nor  have  I  any  desire  to  open  my  mouth, 
simply  to  fill  the  mouths  of  others.  Besides,  you  don't 
know  a  half  of  it,  and  I  haven't  time  to  tell  you." 

"No,  Bro.  Merton,"  said  Mrs.  Squareman,  "you  don't 
know  a  half  of  our  trouble.  Only  a  few  days  ago  Mrs. 
Meekface  said  she  would  never  forgive  me  for  all  the  lies  I 
had  told  about  her.  God  knows  I  haven't  told  any  lies.  For 
all  the  evil  that  woman  has  said  of  me,  I  am  willing  and  do 
now  freely  forgive  her.  She  can  curse,  but  God  will  bless; 
she  can  pray  for  evil  to  overtake  me,  but  it  will  only  bring 
down  fire  upon  her  own  head.  God  knows  those  that  are 
his,  and  he  knows  me.     I  have  given  my  case  to  Him." 

"But,  Mrs.  Squareman,"  said  Sunshine,  "is  it  not  pos- 
sible that  Mrs.  Meekface  feels  just  as  you  do  about  it?  that 
she  is  the  injured  party,  and  3-011  the  transgressor?  It  may 
be  that  if  you  should  go  to  Mrs.  Meekface,  and  deny  that 
you  had  ever  intentionally  injured  her,  she  would  say  the 
same  of  herself  in  regard  to  you.  Then  each  of  you  seeing 
that  there  was  no  real  ground  for  offence,  would  forget  the 
past,  and  be  friendly  with  each  other." 

"It  is  possible,  Sister  Merton,  but  I  couldn't  possibly 
believe  it,  after  doing  all  I  have  done.  I  won't  give  up 
trying  though;  I  pray  for  her  every  day  that  God  may 
give  her  a  better  heart,  and  open  her  eyes  that  she  may 
see  her  evil  ways. ' ' 

On  leaving  the  residence  of  Mr.  Squareman,  Sunshine 
and  Merton  thought,  that  though  they  had  lost  hospitable 
hosts,  they  had  found  relief  from  spirits  full  of  fault-finding 
and  bitter  complaint.  They  felt  greatly  discouraged;  but 
they  were  not  without  that  which  Thales  said  was  the 
greatest  of  all  possessions — hope. 

A  few  days  after  their  visit  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Square- 


BROTHERLY    LOVE.  1 33 

man,  they  called  on  the  Meekface  family.     During  their 
visit,  Mr.  Meekface  said: 

"You  have  been  lately  calling  on  Bro.  Squareman;  so 
I  heard  one  of  the  neighbors  say." 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Merton,  "we  were  there  about  a 
week  ago." 

"You  must  have  found  them  delightful  company," 
continued  Mr.  Meekface.  "We're  not  able  to  live  in  such 
a  fine  house  as  they;  I  don't  know  how  it  is,  unless  they 
are  blessed  for  their  liberality." 

"A  fine  house  is  nothing  to  me,  Mr.  Meekface.  I  would 
greatly  prefer  to  have  my  soul  well  clothed  than  my  body. 
Do  not  trouble  yourself  too  much  about  the  inferior  char- 
acter of  your  house.  Make  the  best  of  what  you  have. 
You  know  that  the  silver  and  the  gold  are  the  Lord's." 

"Yes,  Bro.  Merton;  but  if  all  were  to  sing  that  tune, 
the  preacher  wouldn't  get  very  fat.  He  would  be  one  of 
the  lean  kind." 

"If  a  minister  labors  faithfully,  Mr.  Meekface,  I  should 
say  he  was  worthy  of  his  hire. ' ' 

"Yes,  Bro.  Merton;  but  some  men  don't  see  it  in  that 
light.  Everybody  uses  his  own  eyes,  and  some  folks 
around  here,  may  be,  are  color-blind." 

"Everybody,"  Merton  replied,  "should  make  the  best 
use  of  his  own  eyes;  but  if  they  be  defective,  he  should  be 
led  by  the  eyes  of  others,  or  he  will  fall  into  the  ditch." 

"Then  some  folks,  Bro.  Merton,  must  soon  be  in  the 
ditch.  The  truth  is,  it  is  next  to  impossible  to  get  one  cent 
out  of  the  Squareman  family  for  the  support  of  the  minis- 
ter. He  owes  five  dollars  now;  but  he'll  never  pay  it.  He 
never  has  anything  for  church-work,  but  a  plenty  to  fix  his 
house  up  with.  If  he  paid  as  we,  he  wouldn't  have  a  better 
house  than  other  folks.  I  know  it's  hard  to  speak  evil  of 
others;  but  I  speak  for  his  good.     I  do  hope  you'll  succeed 


134  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

in  getting  some  spiritual  life  into  thai  man  ;  but  if  you  do, 
you'll  do  something  that  nobody  else  has  been  able  to  do. 

"  No  doubt  you've  heard  many  things  about  us,  but  he 
can't  say  any  evil  ;  and,  besides,  nobody  has  any  faith  in  his 
word.  If  you  could  hear  Mrs.  Squareman  pray,  you  would 
think  she  was  a  saint  ;  but  nothing  but  a  miracle  can  ever 
save  that  woman.  They  have  oily  tongues,  and  keep  them 
running  all  the  day  long  ;  and  I  guess  they'll  never  stop 
running,  until  they're  worn  out.  It's  a  great  pity  they're  in 
the  church.  To  have  such  people  in  the  church,  is  like  a 
drowning  man  having  a  lump  of  lead  tied  around  his  neck. 
Some  folks  think  that  Mrs.  Squareman  is  out  of  her  head, 
and  I'm  inclined  to  think  that  she  is.  A  saint  to-day,  she 
has  seven  devils  to-morrow.  If  you  cast  them  out,  you'll 
do  well.  If  the  devil  isn't  their  governor,  then  I  don't  know 
for  the  life  of  me,  who  can  be.  He  brags  all  the  time  of  be- 
ing a  square  man  ;  but  a  more  one-sided  genius  never  lived 
anywhere.  I  have  been  here  a  good  many  years,  have 
labored  in  every  way  to  build  up  our  little  church,  have 
given  money  that  should  have  been  kept  for  my  own  family, 
have  labored  in  the  Sunday-school,  and  gone  night  after 
night  to  the  protracted  meetings,  trying  in  every  way  to 
bring  the  folks  into  the  church  ;  but  as  far  as  I  can  see, 
there's  no  use  in  trying  to  do  anything,  where  such  folks  are 
all  the  time  hard  at  work  pulling  down." 

"  Mr.  Meekface,  believe  me,  you  have  no  need  to  sup- 
pose that  my  judgment  is  formed  of  one  of  my  people,  from 
what  I  hear  another  say  of  him.  I  assure  you,  my  respect 
for  you  has  not  been  lessened,  by  what  I  may  have  heard 
from  the  lips  of  others  about  you.  I  have  found  it  is  a  very 
untrustworthy  foundation  to  base  a  judgment  upon.  In 
reference  to  Mr.  Squareman,  it  may  be,  he  is  a  weak  brother, 
and  you  a  strong  one.  In  such  case,  perhaps,  you  could 
help  him  by  reaching  out  a  kind  hand  to  save.     A  kind 


BROTHERLY    LOVE.  1 35 

word,  an  affectionate  greeting,  a  brotherly  grasp  of  the 
hand, — these  can  restore,  when  nothing  else  can  save.  I 
so  much  wish  you  could  help  Mr.  Squareman  to  a  better 
view  of  things,  and  that  you  could  work  together.  My 
own  hands  are  weak,  and  my  heart  sometimes  seems  to 
fail  within  me.  If  only  we  could  get  rid  of  some  of  our 
fault-finding  spirit ! ' ' 

"I'm  not  fault-finding,  Bro.  Merton;  but  as  far  as 
Squareman  goes,  I've  done  my  last  for  him." 

Weary,  wounded,  and  worn,  they  left  the  house,  and 
sought  the  shelter  of  their  humble  little  parsonage.  Just 
before  coming  to  the  door,  they  were  met  by  Mr.  Pope- 
lover.  Merton  remained  to  talk  with  him,  but  Sunshine 
entered  the  house  to  prepare  the  tea. 

"How  do  you  do,  elder?  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you. 
You're  come  to  a  pretty  tough  place  here.  It  doesn't  con- 
cern me,  I'll  admit;  but  I  can't  very  well  help  sympathizing 
with  a  minister  who  comes  here.  Some  years  ago  the  people 
here  had  a  very  good  kind  of  a  man  to  preach  to  them ;  but 
they  rewarded  him  by  starving  him  out.  He  had  to  carry 
material  to  build  his  own  stable.  He  had  a  young  wife,  who 
was  treated  barbarously.  The  poor  fellow  appeared  heart- 
broken. He  stood  it  a  short  time,  when,  utterly  disgusted 
with  the  whole  business,  he  left  the  ministry,  and  went  on 
a  farm.  I  think  he  showed  good  sense.  The  last  preacher 
they  had  here,  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  woman;  the  one  be- 
fore, I  regarded  as  a  very  dishonest  man.  When  I  know  a 
man  to  be  dishonest,  I  know  it.  You  have  plenty  of  such 
characters  in  your  church.  I  know  some  of  them  who  go 
over  yonder  to  pray,  after  they've  turned  their  stock  into 
my  corn-field.  I  suppose  the  consciousness  that  their  cattle 
are  doing  well,  enables  them  to  pray  fervently.  I  haven't 
much  faith  in  such  prayers.  I  met  Bro.  Fraudulent  the 
other  day,  and  said:     'Bro.   Fraudulent,   suppose  a  man 


136  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

should  steal  a  span  of  my  horses,  can  he  get  forgiveness 
without  returning  them  ?'  'Most  certainly,'  he  said.  'A 
man  is  forgiven  not  for  what  he  does,  but  because  he  be- 
lieves in  Christ.  We  are  saved  by  faith.'  I  told  him  if 
that  was  Methodism,  I  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  it;  and 
that  if  it  were  Christianity,  the  sooner  it  were  put  down 
the  better." 

"Mr.  Popelover,  you  are  a  Roman  Catholic.  You 
must  know  yourself  the  conditions  of  divine  forgiveness. 
Either  you  misunderstood  Mr.  Fraudulent,  or  he  has  mis- 
informed you  as  to  the  doctrines  of  Methodism.  If  you 
will  promise  me  to  come  to  services  next  Sunday,  I  will 
undertake  to  tell  you  at  that  time  what  my  own  ideas  on 
the  subject  are." 

"With  that  understanding,  elder,  I  will  promise  you 
to  be  at  the  church  next  Sunday." 

On  the  following  Sunday,  Mr.  Popelover,  true  to  his 
promise,  was  present  at  services,  and  proved  a  most  at- 
tentive listener  to  the  sermon,  which  was  based  on  Matt. 
v.  23-24.  In  this  sermon  Merton  spoke  so  plainly  on  the 
doctrine  of  divine  forgiveness,  that  some  of  the  members 
were  not  a  little  hurt,  as  afterwards  became  known. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

FALSE  SPIRITS. 

Thou  therefore  which  teachest  another,  teachest  thou  not  thyself? 

(Z?o»ians.) 

A  FTER  preaching  the  sermon  mentioned  in  our  last 

chapter,  Merton  perceived  that  Mr.  Headstrong,  a 
very  prominent  and  influential  member  of  the  congrega- 
tion, began  to  be  less  and  less  regular  at  services,  and, 
finally,  ceased  coining  altogether.  When  Merton  discover- 
ed Mr.  Headstrong's  protracted  absence,  he  resolved  to 
call  on  him,  and  find  out  the  reason  of  his  non-attendance. 

A  little  after  entering  his  house,  Merton  said: 

"Mr.  Headstrong,  I  have  missed  you  for  some  time. 
What  is  the  matter  with  you?  I  hope  you  have  not  been  ill. ' ' 

"No,  Brother  Merton,  not  exactly;  I  have  had  the 
rheumatics.  If  you  had  them  a  little  while,  you  would 
know  all  about  my  staying  away  from  prayer-meetings." 

"I  am  truly  sorry,  Mr.  Headstrong,  to  know  that  you 
are  such  a  sufferer.  I  sincerely  hope  that  in  a  few  da)'S 
you  may  be  yourself  again.  I  need  your  presence  and 
help  so  much." 

"I  love  the  meetings,  Brother  Merton.  There  is  not 
a  man  in  this  place,  that's  worked  for  them  as  I  have. 
I've  often  gone,  and  left  my  wife  in  floods  of  tears,  and 
exposed  to  dangers  also.  But,  then,  a  woman's  crying  is 
nothing  to  me,  when  the  meeting  is  concerned.  Women 
are  weak  things,  anyhow." 

"I  could  hardly  approve  of  such  conduct,  Mr.  Head- 
strong," replied  Merton.  "The  first  duty  we  have,  is  to 
take  care  of  those  who  depend  on  us. ' ' 

"Angels  can  keep  us  from  dashing  our  feet  against  a 

1.57 


138  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

stone,  Bro.  Mertou;  God  can  protect  his  own.  I  don't  be- 
lieve in  pleasing  the  whims  of  a  woman,  when  the  well- 
being  of  heaven  calls  me  away.  I  believe  in  trusting  Provi- 
dence; he  who  doesn't,  lacks  true,  saving  faith.  Such  a 
one  should  get  converted,  before  he  goes  out  into  God's 
vineyard  to  convert  others.  We  must  first  have  the  power 
ourselves." 

"  But,  Mr.  Headstrong,  would  it  not  be  as  reasonable  to 
say  that  he  who  trusts  Providence  to  do  for  him  what  he 
might  do  for  himself,  lacks  common-sense?  And  what  is 
the  use  of  faith  without  common-sense?" 

"  I've  old  notions,  Bro.  Merton,  and  they  have  come  to 
me  through  experience;  I  got  some  of  them  out  in  Califor- 
nia, affer  I  had  crossed  the  plains.  I  don't  want  any  of 
your  untried  opinions.  Some  young  fellows  think  they  are 
right  smart;  but  men  of  experience  don't  want  no  time  to 
take  the  conceit  out  of  them.  In  business  matters  I  do  as 
well  as  the  best  of  them,  and  in  speritual  things  I  can  beat 
them  any  time.  There's  lots  of  book-larning  in  the  world, 
but  'tisn't  worth  nothing;  such  folks  quarrel  with  Provi- 
dence every  day.  They  are  very  smart  in  their  way:  they 
insure  their  lives  and  their  houses.  You  don't  catch  me  in- 
suring my  life.  What  is  insurance,  if  it  isn't  quarreling 
with  God!  No,  indeed!  Headstrong  isn't  found  wasting  his 
money  in  insurance.  God  insures  me  and  mine;  that's  good 
enough  for  me.  I  don't  believe  that  a  man  who  insures  his 
life,  has  the  sperit  of  God  in  him.  How  can  we  expect  to 
enter  the  kingdom,  if  we  fight  like  that  against  the  ways  of 
Providence  !  Again,  some  folks  keep  organs  and  dolls  for 
their  cheldern.  This  is  the  sin  of  Israel,  worshipping  idols. 
No  organ  in  Headstrong's  house;  no  dolls  for  my  cheldern. 
Them's  my  opinions  all  the  time,  and  they're  come  to  me 
through  hard  experience.  I've  been  a  class-leader  for  many 
years,  and  have  come  to  this  knowledge  through  powerful, 


FALSE  SPIRITS.  1 39 

internal  reasoning.  The  devil  and  all  his  sooty  hosts 
couldn't  never  change  me  a  particle.  When  I  say  a  thing,  I 
say  it;  when  I  know  a  thing,  I  know  it;  and  Headstrong 
knows  two  or  three  things.  Tell  you  what,  Bro.  Merton; 
you  might  get  Bro.  Squareman,  or  somebody  of  his  kind, 
to  accept  your  doctrine;  but  nobody  with  the  Sperit  won't. 
A  man  strong  in  speritual  things,  strong  in  the  faith,  and 
led  by  the  Sperit,  isn't  going  to  be  moved  an  inch  by  your 
views.  I  wish  you  hadn't  preached  that  sermon  on  the 
'Conditions  of  Divine  Forgiveness.'  You  greatly  offended 
some  who  are  led  by  the  Sperit.  Bro.  Fraudulent  was 
mighty  displeased.  You  stepped  on  many  a  toe  by  say- 
ing what  you  said.  But  the  one  most  offended  is  Bro. 
Fraudulent;  for  everybody  knows  you  meant  him." 

"Mr.  Headstrong,  you  are  making  serious  charges 
against  Mr.  Fraudulent.  What  right  have  you,  or  any- 
body else,  to  say  that  I  referred  to  him  in  my  sermon?" 

"Because  everybody  knows  right  well  that  Bro.  Fraud- 
ulent done  to  Mr.  Popelover,  just  what  you  said;  and 
that's  the  way  that  Fraudulent  was  so  angry." 

"Mr.  Headstrong,  simply  because  I  happened  to  speak 
of  a  sin  which  you  say  Mr.  Fraudulent  had  been  guilty  of, 
no  one  could  therefore  rightly  infer  that  I  alluded  to  him. 
Such  a  conclusion  would  be  very  unjust,  whether  made 
by  you  or  any  other.  But  suppose  I  did  know  it.  Should 
I  because  of  that  knowledge,  cease  to  rebuke  such  sins  ? 
If  so,  it  would  follow  that  I  should  cease  to  speak  of  any 
sin  whatever,  since  it  is  quite  possible  there  is  no  sin  that 
has  not  been  committed  by  somebody." 

"Bro.  Fraudulent  don't  believe  in  preachers  meddling 
with  the  business  of  the  members.  And  I  might  as  well 
tell  you,  Bro.  Merton,  that  Bro.  Meekface  supports  him  in 
his  views.  They  both  say  that  the  preacher  is  a  thing  that 
is  here  to-day  and  gone  to-morrow,  but  that  the  members 


I40  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

are  fixed.  They  say  they  have  never  heered  your  equal 
as  a  preacher,  when  you  stick  to  the  Gospel,  and  tell  those 
sinners,  those  folks  outside  the  church,  the  great  danger 
they're  in;  but  that  you  know  nothing  about  trading  in 
horses, nor  selling  corn  and  wheat.  Fraudulent  is  ashamed 
to  go  around,  since  you  preached  that  sermon.  As  things 
are, I  can't  never  hope  for  a  glorious  revival." 

"Mr.  Headstrong,  when  the  hub  is  rotten,  the  wheel 
carries  but  little;  he  who  has  a  beam  in  his  own  eye, should 
not  counsel  others  to  take  a  mote  out  of  theirs;  a  man  with 
a  legion  of  devils, should  not  seek  to  exorcise  him  possessed 
only  of  one.  The  first  duty  is  for  the  chief  members  of  the 
church  to  get  within  themseles  a  revival  of  honesty  and 
truth;  then  we  should  have  reason  to  expect  others  would 
begin." 

"I  find  you  are  fixed  in  the  error  of  your  ways,  Brother 
Merton.  I  prophesy,  though,  that  you  would  do  better  in 
this  circuit,  if  you  had  a  leetle  more  of  the  Sperit  in  the 
inner  man;  and  a  leetle  less  of  book-larning  in  the  outer. 
I  can't  come  to  church,  where  I  hear  the  cheldern  of  Zion 
held  up  for  the  cheldern  of  this  wicked  world  to  laugh  at. 
I  like  the  preacher  to  tell  sinners  what  they  must  do  to  be 
saved.  This  makes  the  old  warrior's  heart  rejoice;  but  I 
can't  stand  it,  to  see  the  cheldern  of  Zion  hang  down  their 
heads.  Tell  me, Brother  Merton,  were  you  ever  converted?' ' 

"I  certainly  supposed  I  was,  Mr.  Headstrong,  when  I 
was  quite  a  boy;  but  I  do  not  claim  to  be  a  child  of  God  so 
much  because  of  this  belief,  as  from  the  fact  that  I  have 
always  tried  to  love  and  worship  God  my  Father, and  to  be 
kind  and  forbearing  in  all  my  dealings  with  my  fellow-men. 
In  other  words, as  I  have  never, to  my  knowledge, been  far 
away  from  my  Father's  house,  I  firmly  believe  that  I  am 
now  at  home,  living  in  his  presence.  I  trustingly  place  my 
hand  in  his, believing  that  though  the  way  may  be  dark,  I 


FALSE  SPIRITS.  141 

shall  in  good  time  be  brought  into  the  light." 

That's  very  good, Brother  Merton;  but  that's  just  where 
your  weakness  is.  You,  my  dear  brother,  have  never  ex- 
perienced the  blessed  power.  It  is  not  your  fault  altogether. 
It  is  more  the  sin  of  theological  schools,  and  so-called  lam- 
ed professors.  I  tell  you, one  poor, ignorant  man  led  by  the 
Sperit, knows  more  of  divine  things  than  all  the  schools  put 
together.  It  is  the  Sperit  that  teaches  us,  not  book-larning. ' ' 

"I  thank  you  for  your  advice, Mr. Headstrong,but  would 
it  not  be  well  for  you  who  are  so  full  of  the  Spirit,  to  learn 
to  judge  less  harshly, to  seek  more  of  the  spirit  of  forgive- 
ness, and  to  show  by  your  works  that  you  have  learned  those 
divine  things  which, you  say , you  are  so  competent  to  teach. 
I  cannot  but  believe,  Mr.  Headstrong, that  the  only  sufficient 
evidence  we  have, or  should  seek, of  a  genuine  conversion, 
is  that  the  convert  live  an  honest,  upright,  and  consistent 
life.   I  want  no  faith  which  is  not  followed  by  right  works. ' ' 

"Such  language, Brother  Merton, shows  that  you  are  yet 
in  the  gall  of  bitterness, dead  in  trespasses  and  sin.  Woe  be 
to  the  man  who  seeks  to  draw  others  into  the  light,  when  he 
is  in  gross  darkness  himself.  Not  by  works,  Brother  Merton , 
not  by  works,  which  are  as  filthy  rags,  but  by  the  blood  of 
Jesus.  According  to  thy  faith  so  shall  it  be.  I  do  not  know 
what  will  become  of  the  church.  It  seems  to  me  that  unless 
God  awakes,  and  puts  on  his  glorious  strength,  that  Zion 
must  soon  totter  and  fall;  and  great  will  be  the  fall  thereof. 
Good  day,  Brother  Merton;  think  prayerfully  of  what  I  said. 
It  may  be  the  Sperit  will  fn^d  you  out." 

As  Merton  left  this  man, he  could  but  feel  contempt  as 
well  as  pity  for  him.  While  boasting  of  dwelling  in  the 
fullness  of  light,  he  was  shockingly  irreverent  with  God, 
and  most  abusive  to  others,  if  they  dared  to  differ 
with    him.       Nor   could  Merton  fail  to  recall  the  lines: 


142  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

"To  make  the  lips 
Of  truth  speak  falsehood;  to  their  own  liking 
Turn  the  meaning  of  the  text, 
And  prove  their  reasoning  hest, 
Though  propped  on  fancies  wild  as  madmen's  dreams." 

As  he  walked  along  pondering  on  the  ignorance  and 
superstition  of  the  people  he  ministered  to,  he  was  met  by 
Mr.  Truthseeker: 

"How  do  you  do,  elder.  Your  sermon  has  created  quite 
a  sensation  in  Mazar.  Everybody  has  something  to  say 
about  it.  It  was  enough  to  make  any  man  think,  and  I 
for  one  didn't  escape.  Two  or  three  of  your  members,  how- 
ever,are  greatly  offended.  They  have  their  old  notions, and 
would  as  soon  part  with  their  lives,  as  part  with  them.  I 
have  heard  some  men  say  that  they  would  give  their  last 
dollar  rather  than  see  you  leave  Mazar.  So  I  guess  you 
have  no  need  to  feel  discouraged.  Those  who  are  offended, 
are  of  very  little  account  here,  even  though  the}'  are  the 
centre  of  your  praying-band.  If  you  could  only  succeed  in 
getting  them  converted,  there  would  be  some  hopes  for 
Methodism  in  this  place;  as  it  is,  it  is  a  laughing-stock. 
Since  you  have  been  here,  there's  a  class  of  men  coming  to 
church,  that  never  came  before.  It  is  something  novel, 
you  know,  to  hear  it  taught  that  it  is  the  character,  the 
moral  uprightness  of  the  man,  which  determines  his  accept- 
ability with  God.  I  am  not  a  member  of  any  church,  and 
never  shall  be,  until  it  assents  to  doctrine  like  I  hear  you 
preach.  You  may  take  my  word  for  it, — the  community 
here  approves  your  course.  Here  comes  a  man  unlike 
myself.  He  is  a  member  of  the  Baptist  Church.  Let  us 
hear  what  he  has  to  say  about  it.  He  heard  your  sermon 
last  Sunday;  and  as  he  is  a  good  judge,  I  would  like  to 
know  what  he  thinks  about  it." 


FALSE)  SPIRITS.  143 

"  Good  morning,  elder,"  said  Mr.  VVorkandpray.  "  That 
was  a  powerful  discourse  you  gave  us  on  the  '  Conditions  of 
Divine  Forgiveness.'  It  went  to  the  point.  Whether  or  not 
it  may  be  considered  as  exactly  like  what  is  generally 
preached,  I  declare  it  seems  to  me  the  only  sensible  sermon 
on  the  subject  I  ever  heard.  But  I  tell  you,  elder,  it  made 
some  fellows  kick  mighty  hard.  Speaking  of  your  principal 
members,  elder,  makes  me  think  of  the  time  I  first  came 
here.  Having  attended  the  services  one  evening;  I  happened 
to  hear  Mrs.  Squareman  pray,  who  was  then  a  stranger  to 
me.  I  was  mighty  struck  with  her  prayer,  and  on  going 
home  with  Mr.  Meekface,  asked  him  who  was  that  woman 
that  made  that  fine  prayer.  '  She  must  be  a  fine  character  * 
I  said." 

"  '  I  thought  so  myself  once,'  he  said  ;  '  but  as  you  are  a 
stranger  here,  my  advice  to  you  is,  have  nothing  to  do  with 
that  woman.     She's  a  whited  sepulchre.' 

'  Not  long  after  this,  elder,  Mr.  Outspoken  went  to  the 
residence  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Squareman  to  board,  until  he 
could  get  his  own  place  a  little  fixed  up.  Well,  he  said 
that  back-biting  commenced  at  supper-table,  and  continued 
till  bed-time,  when  they  would  take  down  the  big  Bible  and 
have  evening  prayers.  Mr.  Outspoken  protested  against 
this.  He  said  he  didn't  see  no  use  in  back-biting  one  moment, 
and  going  to  prayers  the  next.  He  thought  the  two  didn't 
work  well  together.  But  what  he  said,  had  but  little  effect 
on  their  tongues.  They  told  him  that  they  held  up  the 
people  whom  they  were  speaking  about,  as  a  warning  to 
others. 

"  I  tell  you,  elder,  you  must  not  care  what  such  charac- 
ters say  or  do.  They  are  well  known  here  ;  and  they  are 
regarded  as  spotted  sheep.  The  worst  they  can  do  to  you, 
is  to  refuse  to  pay  their  subscriptions.  If  you  offend  them, 
they  will  likely  do  this  ;  but  something  should  be  done  to 


144  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

stir  them  up.  You  have  a  good  and  honest  name  now. 
Don't  lose  it  for  fear  of  them.  If  you  lose  their  support, 
you  gain  that  of  other  men,  men  like  Loveright  and  God- 
saveall;  and  they  are  better  able  to  support  you  than  any 
of  your  members. ' ' 

As  Merton  passed  into  the  little  parsonage,  Sunshine 
met  him  at  the  door,  and  said: 

"Harry,  Mrs.  Fencestridler  has  been  visiting  me.  She 
made  many  apologies  for  not  calling  before,  and  left  all 
these  things  you  see  here,  to  fill  up  our  cupboard  with.  She 
said  it  was  a  treat  to  hear  you  preach;  and  that  the  people 
out  at  Woodland,  were  longing  for  you  to  come  out  there. 
I  do  think,  Harry,  that  a  good  many  people  here  are  so 
kind,  especially  those  outside  the  church.  I  do  believe 
that  such  people  are  kinder  to  you  and  me  than  those  who 
call  themselves  members  of  God's  kingdom." 

"Such  is  not  strange,  my  darling.  It  was  in  a  measure 
true  with  Christ.  He  came  to  his  own,  and  they  received 
him  not.  I  certainly  could  not  stand  the  actions  I  have 
seen  in  many  of  the  people  of  my  charge,  were  it  not  for 
your  presence.  I  sometimes  feel  almost  in  despair;  but  as 
soon  as  I  come  under  your  beams,  I  feel  hopeful.  The  life 
I  receive  from  you,  gives  me  energy  to  battle  under  diffi- 
culties, however  great,  for  the  sake  of  the  beautiful  being 
called  by  my  name.  When  I  want  to  feast  on  you,  I  stand 
and  gaze, lost  in  wonder  at  the  beauty  and  loveliness  of  your 
form,  and  unable  to  express  my  thoughts  in  words.  My 
love  for  you  is  too  deep,  my  admiration  for  you  too  high, 
to  express  in  any  language.  I  seem  to  have  a  richer  feast 
by  silently  watching  you;  and  I  feel,  as  it  were,  afraid  to 
let  my  thoughts  loose,  lest  the  air  carry  them  to  others,  and 
they  share  with  me  the  feast  I  enjoy.  I  suppose  it  is  selfish 
with  me.  But  I  am  not  sorry  that  I  find  my  heaven  in  your 
presence;  nor  are  you,  I  hope,  that  I  want  you  all  to  myself: 


FALSE   SPIRITS.  145 

"O,  Maedchen,  Maedchen, 
Wie  lieb'  ich  dich. 
Wie  blickt  dein  Auge. 
Wie  liebst  du  mich. 

So  liebt  die  Lerche, 
Gesang  vmd  Luft, 

Und  Morgenblumen 

Den  Himmelsduft. 

Wie  ich  d'ch  Hebe 
Mit  warmem  Blut, 
Die  du  mir  Jugend 
Und  Freud'  und  Muth 

In  neuern  Liedern 

Und  Taenzen  gibst. 

Sei  ewig  gluecklich, 

Wie  du  niich  liebst." 

{Goethe.) 


10 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

DEBASEMENT   OF   RELJGION. 

What  meaneth  the  noise  of  this  tumult? 

(/  Samuel.) 

'T'HE  disaffection  among  the  stewards  of  the  church,  re- 
sulting from  the  preaching  of  the  sermon  on  "Divine 
Forgiveness, ' '  caused  them  to  seek  every  means  of  impeding 
Merton  in  his  work,  and  embittering  his  life.  They  finally 
contrived  a  plot  whereby  he  would  be  unable  to  have  the 
further  use  of  the  church  building.  The  building  was  the 
property  of  another  people;  and  they,  having  no  minis- 
ter that  year,  had  permitted  Merton 's  people  to  have  the 
use  of  it.  Although  the  one  denomination  hated  the  doc- 
trines of  the  other,  in  order  to  have  their  revenge,  the 
stewards  of  Merton' s  church  persuaded  the  rival  church 
people  to  initiate  revival  services,  that  by  so  doing  there 
might  be  an  apparent  reason  for  denying  Merton  the  use 
of  the  church  pulpit.  The  rival  people  readily  consented, 
being  already  very  jealous  of  the  large  congregations  at- 
tending Merton 's  services. 

It  was  Sunday  morning.  Merton  had  finished  his  dis- 
course, and  had  just  announced  his  services  for  the  follow- 
ing Sunday,  when  Mr.  Worthington,  a  leading  member  of 
the  rival  church,  rose  in  his  seat,  and  said: 

"I  beg  to  announce  that  in  the  future,  or  at  least  for 

the  next  two  or  three  months,  we  shall  want  the  exclusive 

use  of  this  house.  We  are  going  to  hold  revival  services. ' ' 

At  this  Mr.  Remington  arose,  and  replied: 

"Mr.  Worthington,  did  you  not  promise  me  that  Mr. 

Merton  should  have  the  use  of  this  pulpit  for  next  Sunday?' ' 

"No,  sir,  I  promised  no  such  thing,"  answered  Mr. 

Worthington;  "and  it's  a  falsehood  to  say  that  I  did." 

146 


DEBASEMENT   OF   RELIGION.  1 47 

"I  am  surprised  at  you,"  said  Mr.  Remington;  "and  I 
want  nothing  more  to  do  with  you,  or  any  one  else  who 
would  use  such  words,  after  having  promised  me  faithfully, 
as  you  certainly  did,  that  Mr.  Merton  should  have  the  use 
of  this  house  next  Sunday." 

"Never  mind,  gentlemen,"  said  Merton;  "it  is  not 
worth  quarreling  about.  It  may  be  we  can  hold  services 
elsewhere.  In  the  meantime,  we  will  hold  services  next 
Sunday  at  the  parsonage. ' ' 

On  his  way  to  the  parsonage,  Merton  was  accompanied 
by  Mr.  L,overight,  who  said:  "Don't  you  mind  them,  Mr. 
Merton.  I  heard  even  one  of  their  own  members  say,  a  day 
or  two  ago,  that  if  they  closed  the  door  against  you,  he 
would  break  it  in.  Those  revival  services  are  a  disgrace  to 
any  community.  I  remember  one  that  was  held  where  I 
lived,  some  years  ago.  The  services  were  a  grand  success, 
many  people  having  been  converted;  for  the  leaders  were 
said  to  speak  with  great  unction.  Everything  went  on  most 
promisingly.  One  night  the  leaders  failed  to  put  in  their 
appearance.  People  wondered  what  had  become  of  the 
mighty  workers  who  had  wrought  such  wonders  among  the 
people  of  the  church.  The  next  morning,  however,  their 
wondering  ceased;  for  a  great  many  went  to  the  stables  to 
find  their  best  horses  missing.  The  leaders  of  the  revivalists 
were  nothing  but  a  band  of  horse-thieves.  I  and  my  wife 
knew  a  very  successful  revivalist  who  generally  ended  his 
work  by  seducing  one  or  two  young  girls.  I  often  wonder 
why  people  can  put  confidence  in  such  men.  Who  knows 
them?  Nobody.  They  pass  through  the  country  like  met- 
eors, and  disappear  the  same  way.  A  minister  living  among 
us,  is  a  person  we  know.  We  can  hold  him  accountable  for 
his  actions;  but  with  revivalists,  unless  in  special  cases,  we 
can  absolutely  do  nothing.  How  can  we  tell  the  character 
of  a  man  who  comes  from  a  distance,  and  known  by  nobody 


148  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

in  the  community?  I  have  learned  that  a  man  can  weep, 
and  pray,  and  shout,  and  still  be  a  devil.  I  am  one  oi 
those  who  have  no  faith  whatever  in  revivalists,  and  I 
hope  you  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  revivals. ' ' 

"I  hardly  know  what  to  do,  Mr.  Loveright.  I  shall 
calmly  think  the  matter  over,  and  what  I  think  is  best,  that 
will  I  do,  cost  what  it  may. ' ' 

"I  tell  you,  elder,  a  revival  meeting  would  never  have 
been  thought  of  in  this  place,  this  winter,  were  it  not  for 
Mr.  Headstrong.  He  is  very  angry  with  you,  because  you 
have  not  permitted  him  to  blow  his  horn,  as  much  as  he 
wished  to.  Although  a  very  ignorant  man,  he  is  a  mischiev- 
ous one,  and  delights  in  doing  all  he  can  to  injure  those  who 
cross  him  in  the  least.  One  year,  he  is  a  Methodist;  next 
he's  a  Baptist;  God  knows  what  he'll  be  in  the  end." 

It  being  fully  known  that  Merton  had  refused  to  take 
any  part  in  revival  services, the  disaffected  members  worked 
for  a  short  time  in  union  with  the  rival  people,  having  in- 
vited Mr. Wheat,  a  preacher  stationed  at  Stanton,  to  come 
and  work  for  them  in  union  with  the  evangelist.  He  came, 
and  for  a  few  days  the  two  denominations  appeared  to  labor 
in  harmony.  Soon,  however,  they  began  to  quarrel  over 
the  division  of  the  spoils.  It  was  then  that  Mr.  Wheat, 
becoming  disgusted,  ceased  all  further  efforts.  Before 
leaving  the  village,  he  called  at  the  parsonage.  On  enter- 
ing the  house,  he  said:  "I  am  sorry,  Brother  Merton,  that  I 
was  ever  fooled  into  coming  here,  especially  without  your 
invitation.  I  see  I  have  done  wrong.  I  ought  to  have 
known  that  they  were  a  nest  of  hornets.  I  hope  you  will 
forgive  me;  I  will  do  no  more  of  it. ' ' 

' '  My  dear  sir, ' '  replied  Merton, ' '  I  certainly  shall  forgive 
you;  but  I  can  not  understand  why  so-called  ministers  of  the 
Gospel  can  be  guilty  of  doing  what  you  have  done,  unless 
the  power  which  calls  them  to  preach,  is  the  pocket-book 


DEBASEMENT   OF   REUGION.  1 49 

rather  than  the  Holy  Ghost.  In  my  simplicity  I  refused  a 
lucrative  position  for  the  sake  of  preaching;  but  what  do  I 
see  among  my  so-called  brethren,  but  a  race  after  a  few 
dollars. ' ' 

"I  don't  know, Brother  Mertou,  "replied  Mr.  Wheat, 
'  'how  you  feel  about  it;  but  if  I  could  get  more  money  in  any 
other  honest  calling  than  by  preaching,  I  certainly  should 
feel  it  my  duty  to  get  it.  The  preacher  of  the  Gospel  must 
first  of  all  look  out  for  the  wants  of  his  family;  and  those 
things  are  best  supplied,  when  we  get  most  money. 

This  saying  surprised  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Merton,  the  latter 
having  heard  Mr.  Wheat  say, only  the  night  before, that  the 
Holy  Ghost  had  called  him  to  preach  the  Gospel  to  all 
mankind.  She  had  as  yet  scarcely  learned  that  the  holy 
ghost  of  many  ministers  is  the  pocket-book  and  nothing 
else;  but  it  was  not  very  long  before  she  became, as  all  others 
who  fully  study  the  question,  completely  convinced  that,  if 
ministers  were  to  get  less  money,  and  acquire  less  promin- 
ence than  men  in  other  callings,  the  churches  would  nearly 
all  be  closed,  and  Christianity,  as  it  is  preached  to-day,  be  a 
thing  of  the  past  in  less  than  twenty  years. 

One  evening,  about  half-past  eight,  Merton  visited  the 
revival  meeting.  The  house  was  like  a  pandemonium:  it  was 
full  of  giggling  and  groaning;  and  over  all  the  maddening 
scene  were  cast  the  eyes  of  the  lustful  evangelist  raving 
with  the  insanity  of  religious  excitement. 

Approaching  Mr.  Truthseeker,  the  evangelist  said: 

"Young  man,  do  you  love  God?" 

"I  do,"  was  the  reply;  "do  you?" 

" Do  I ! " said  the  evangelist ;  "  I  am  perfect  in  love.  I  love 
God  with  all  my  soul,  with  all  my  strength,  with  all  my 
mind, and  with  all  my  heart, and  my  neighbor  as  myself. 
I  fear,  young  man, you  are  in  the  enemy's  territory.  Come 
and  learn  of  me,  and  I  will  show  you  wondrous  things." 


150  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

"  I  am  not  certain,"  replied  Mr.  Truthseeker,  "  how  much 
you  know  about  holy  things,  if  you  mean  shotes  and  horses; 
but  I  am  certain  you  have  never  learned  good  manner;  nor 
how  to  behave  as  a  gentleman.  If  you  had,  you  would 
never  have  rilled  the  pulpit,  at  a  time  when  it  was  promised 
another." 

"  I  am  an  evangelist,  young  man,  and  never  allow  my 
pulpit  to  be  filled  by  another  who  might  interfere  with  my 
methods,  and  deny  my  doctrines." 

"You  may  be  sure  he  would,"  was  the  reply,  "  for  no 
man,  professing  to  be  a  gentleman,  could  see  your  methods, 
and  hear  your  insane  utterances,  without  branding  you  what 
you  are, — an  ignorant  scoundrel." 

"I  reckon,  young  man,  you're  a  leetle  off  ;  I  will  call  on 
you  again,  when  your  right  reason  returns,  if  the  day  of 
grace  isn't  passed." 

"  I  am  open  to  an  interview,"  retorted  Mr.  Truthseeker, 
"if  you  come  looking  like  a  decent  man  ;  but  with  your 
present  appearance,  I  can't  promise  you  one." 

Leaving  Mr.  Truthseeker,  the  evangelist  approached  the 
young  Mr.  Loveright  : 

"  Young  man,"  he  said,  "  I've  saw  you  here  a  right  good 
number  of  evenings.  Are  you  seeking  ?  can't  I  persuade 
you  to  come  forward." 

"  Don't  bring  your  mouth  so  near  mine,"  replied  Mr. 
Loveright ;  "you  smell  too  much  of  the  weed." 

"Young  man!  don't  you  think  that  you're  a  leetle 
saucy  ? " 

"  Not  so  much  as  you  are  impertinent,"  answered  the 
young  man.  "  I  profess  to  be  a  temperate  man,  and  don't 
wish  to  be  intoxicated  by  your  drunken  spirit  and  tobacco- 
soaked  soul.  The  room  is  big  enough  for  both  ;  keep  your 
distance." 


DEBASEMENT  OP  RELIGION.  151 

At  another  time  the  evangelist  approached  Mr.  Freund, 
and  said  : 

"Say,  young  man,  I  want  to  see  you  become  converted, 
and  happy  like  me." 

"  That's  all  good  enough,"  said  Mr.  Freund,  "  but  I 
really  consider  myself  so  much  better  than  you,  that  I 
should  deem  it  an  unpardonable  sin  in  me,  to  become  as  you 
are." 

The  evangelist  then  took  the  platform,  and  made  an 
address  in  which  he  set  forth  all  the  imaginary  terrors  of 
the  dying-bed,  the  woes  of  the  damned,  and  the  wrath  of 
God  against  the  unrepentent.  Of  these  he  painted  such  an 
awful  picture  that  none  could  look  on  it,  without  feeling  a 
thrill  of  horror  pass  through  himself. 

During  the  evening  Miss  Meekface  approached  Miss 
Godsaveall,  and  was  persuading  her  to  go  forward,  when, 
it  being  seen  by  Mr.  Godsaveall,  he  said  : 

"  Miss  Meekface  !  you  dare  approach  my  daughter  again 
with  any  more  of  your  lying  inventions,  and  corruptions  of 
the  truth,  and  I  will  teach  you  a  lesson,  you  will  not  be  apt 
to  forget.  How  dare  you  make  such  a  farce  of  religion  !  We 
are  not  come  here  to  receive  help  from  you  or  your  kind, 
but  to  witness  to  what  depths  of  ignorance  and  superstition 
such  as  you  may  be  reduced." 

Mr.  Godsaveall  spoke  so  loudly  that  he  attracted  the  at- 
tention of  the  house,  at  which  the  evangelist  arose  and  said  : 
"  Brethren,  to  your  knees  !  The  devil  is  in  the  house;  he  is 
hardening  the  hearts  of  the  wicked  ;  he  is  hindering  the 
work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ;  he  must  be  cast  out  by  the  way  he 
came  in." 

Mr.  Godsaveall  was  a  conspicuous  man  in  Mazar,  noted 
for  his  integrity  and  gentlemanly  conduct.  That  such  a 
man  should  be  classed  with  devils,  was  more  than  the  people 
could  stand.     Quite  a  tumult  arose  ;  and  such  a  feeling  of 


152  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

discord  was  engendered  in  the  hearts  of  the  praying  band, 
that  any  future  success  was  made  impossible. 

The  result  of  these  revival-meetings  was  what  had  been 
prophesied:  jealousy,  ill-feeling,  and  bitterness  received  a 
new  lease  of  life;  and  even  those  who  had  been  the  most 
friendly  with  the  evangelist,  could  now  be  heard  saying, 
he  was  a  "  fool,"  a  "  horse-trader,"  and  a  "  liar." 

Merton's  services  were  never  better  attended  than  dur- 
ing the  Baptist  revival-meeting:  it  had  no  power  to  draw 
away  the  better  class  of  people. 

During  those  days  it  was  gratifying  to  Merton  to  receive 
constant  proofs  of  the  people's  good-will  in  the  form  of 
gifts  of  wood,  coal,  flour,  etc.  We  give  an  example  of  the 
manner  in  which  these  presents  were  brought: 

"Harry,"  said  Sunshine,  "there  is  some  one  at  the 
door. ' '  On  opening  the  door,  Merton  saw  the  hired  man  of 
Mr.  Godspeed,  who  said:  "Elder,  excuse  me;  but  Mr.  God- 
speed has  sent  me  up  with  this  bag  of  flour,  and  this  five- 
dollar  bill,  as  part  payment  for  the  sermon  you  gave  last 
night,  the  best,  he  says5  he  ever  heard  in  his  life.  He  also 
wishes  me  to  say  that  there's  more  where  this  comes  from. ' ' 

Shortly  afterwards  another  knock  was  heard.  This 
time  it  was  Mr.  Loveright,  who  had  come  to  see  them: 

'  'Well, elder, ' '  he  began,  "I  thought  I  would  come  down 
to  inquire  if  you  wanted  anything  like  coal  or  wood,  or  any- 
thing I  might  be  able  to  get  for  you.  I  have  never,  in  all 
my  life,  taken  such  interest  in  religious  matters;  and  the 
reason  is,  because  of  the  wholesome  sense  you  give  us  in 
your  sermons.  I  can  accept  your  doctrine,  and  so  can  any 
man  of  common-sense.  What  have  you  lost,  elder,  by 
doing  as  you  have  done?  You  have  lost  three  howling, 
ignorant  hypocrites,  while  you  have  gained  almost  every 
thinking  man  in  Mazar,  and  you  have  received  two  dollars 
for  every  one  you  would  have  received,  had  you  done  other- 


DEBASEMENT  OP   RELIGION.  153 

wise.  The  leading  men  in  this  church,  elder,  are  certainly 
unworthy  of  conspicuous  places,  except  in  gangs  of  notor- 
ious characters.  Have  you  ever  heard  that  Mr.  Smalleyes  is 
believed  to  be  guilty  of  murder  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  heard  it  a  little  after  coming  here  ;  but  I 
know  nothing  of  the  truth  of  such  report.  It  is  a  very 
serious  charge  to  make." 

"There  are  a  great  many  here  who  believe  the  charge  is 
true,  elder.  Mr.  Allimmersion  and  Hardtocrack  who  were 
among  the  very  earliest  settlers  here,  affirm  the  truth  of  the 
report.  They  say  he  has  put  two  men  out  of  the  way,  one 
being  a  laborer  to  whom  he  was  in  debt  more  than  a  hun- 
dred dollars,  the  other,  a  cattle-dealer." 

"It  is  a  terrible  accusation, "said  Merton."  One  of  our 
members  wished  to  have  the  charges  investigated  ;  but  I 
know  of  no  sufficient  grounds  for  bringing  charges  against 
Mr.  Smalleyes." 

"  One  thing  is  sure,  elder  :  you  have  a  class  of  men  for 
church  officers,  whom  nobody  will  trust,  and  who  will  not 
trust  one  another  ;  a  class  of  men  known  to  be  among  the 
most  dishonest  in  the  whole  community.  Ever  since  I've 
been  here,  I've  seen  nothing  but  dishonesty  among  the  chief 
members;  and  the  preachers  whom  they  have  sent  here, 
have  been  but  a  little  better.  Only  a  few  days  ago,  Mr. 
Godspeed  sent  out  his  man  to  purchase  wheat.  He  bought 
a  fine  lot  of  Mr.  Fraudulent,  and  paid  the  cash  down.  On 
delivery,  the  first  load  was  found  to  be  as  purchased,  the 
second  load  proved  to  be  mixed.  Hastening  to  the  resi- 
dence of  Mr.  Fraudulent,  the  miller  obtained  conclusive 
proof  that  Fraudulent  had  brought  a  pile  of  poor  wheat 
from  an  adjoining  room,  and  mixed  it  with  the  good.  The 
hired  man  was  as  angry  as  he  could  be,  and  wished  Mr. 
Godspeed  to  go  to  law  about  the  matter  ;  but  Godspeed 
said  :  '  No  ;  but  as  long  as  I  live,  I  will  never   buy  a  grain 


154  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

of  wheat  from  that  wicked  knave  again; '  and  every  one 
knows  that  Godspeed  means  what  he  says.  Now,  this  is 
just  done  by  one  of  your  principal  men.  Why  !  I'm  sure, 
if  such  things  were  done  among  the  Blackfeet  Indians,  he 
doing  it  would  be  hung,  as  they  would  hang  a  horse-thief. 

"  The  other  night  there  was  a  prayer-meeting  held  across 
the  road  from  us.  During  the  evening,  Headstrong  made  a 
long  and  seemingly  earnest  prayer  in  behalf  of  Squareman 
who  was  present.  The  latter  was  boiling  with  rage,  while 
on  his  knees,  at  the  thought  that  such  a  man  should  pray 
for  him.  After  the  close  of  the  meeting,  Squareman  said  : 
'I  took  no  part  in  the  meeting,  nor  did  I  blab  about  my 
conversion  ;  but,  if  I  thought  I  wasn't  a  hundred  times  bet- 
ter man  than  you  are,  Headstrong,  I  wouldn't  only  leave  the 
church,  but  I'd  leave  the  world.  You  are,  what  you've 
always  been — a  snake  in  the  grass  ;  but  your  bite  can't 
harm  me. ' 

"  Nor  do  the  chief  members  at  Moth  do  any  better.  A 
few  days  ago  Smalleyes  accused  Woundedheart  of  stealing 
his  whipple-tree,  who  replied  to  the  accusation  :  '  You're  a 
liar;  and  if  you  don't  leave  my  premises,  I'll  boot  you.' 
'You'll  be  booted  in  a  few  days,'  replied  Smalleyes  ;  '  for  I 
am  going  to  have  you  up  again  ;  and  if  this  time  I  don't  fix 
you,  then  my  name  isn't  Smalleyes.  ' 

" '  Once  more  I  tell  you,  get  off  my  premises, '  said 
Woundedheart,  'or  I'll  make  mince-meat  of  you. ' 

"  Smalleyes  seemed  disinclined  to  go,  whereupon  Wound- 
edheart struck  him.  They  fought  like  tigers  until  Smalleyes 
was  a  sickening  sight.  After  almost  killing  Smalleyes, 
Woundedheart  went  to  the  residence  of  Beereyed,  the  most 
familiar  friend  of  Smalleyes.  He  found  him  and  punished 
him  most  fearfully.  Finally  the  youngest  Beereyed  attacked 
Woundedheart  with  an  axe,  and  in  this  way  rescued  his 
father.     This  trouble  will  bring  on  more  law-suits.     My  own 


DEBASEMENT   OF   RELIGION.  155 

belief  is  that  no  church  can  hope  to  prosper,  while  it  has 
such  characters  for  its  leaders, — characters  who  are  a  dis- 
grace to  any  community." 

"Elder,  you  are  going  to  have  a  quarterly  meeting,  in 
a  few  days.     Where  is  it  to  be  held? ' ' 

"It  matters  not  to  me,  sir,"  said  Merton;  "I  have  done 
with  this  people.  I  have  not  been  pleased  with  my  field  of 
labor.  Nevertheless,  had  I  received  anything  like  fair 
treatment,  I  would  not  have  left  them  just  yet;  although  I 
have  for  some  time  purposed  in  my  heart  to  leave  the  church 
with  which  I  am  now  connected.  You  know  the  people 
of  this  charge;  and  you  know  the  treatment  I  have  received 
from  them.  I  regard  the  work  of  a  man  as  much  the  fruit 
of  his  faith,  as  the  fruit  of  the  tree  is  the  product  of  the  soil. 
If  the  works  are  bad,  the  faith  is  bad,  the  heart  is  bad.  I 
fear  that  my  principles  are  not  such  as  will  receive  a  gen- 
eral and  ready  acceptation  from  the  people  of  this  church. 
I  have  determined  to  seek  other  affiliation.  To  this  end  I 
have  prepared  a  written  request,  asking  permission  of  the 
quarterly  conference,  to  withdraw  from  all  connection  with 
this  people.  Inasmuch  as  I  have  never  been  ordained,  and 
am  only  a  preacher  on  trial,  the  quarterly  conference  has 
full  power  to  grant  my  request.  But  wherever  we  may  go, 
both  Mrs.  Merton  and  myself  shall  always  remember  the 
great  kindness  }tou  have  shown  us.  You  have,  indeed, 
been  a  true  friend  to  us. ' ' 

"I  have  only  done  my  duty,  Mr.  Merton.  I  have  been 
more  than  repaid  by  }7our  manly  opposition  to  the  abomin- 
able farce  that  we  have  had  here,  under  the  name  of  a 
revival." 


CHAPTER  XV. 

UNREASONABLE    DOGMAS. 

Reason  must  be  our  last  judge  and  guide  in  everything. 

(Locke.) 

f  T  must  not  be  supposed  that  Merton's  decision  to  leave 
the  denomination  with  which  he  had  been  connected, 
was  reached  without  much  thought  and  anxiety.  He  had 
spent  many  years  with  that  body,  had  thoroughly 
studied  the  dogmas  of  that  church,  and  sought  in  every 
way  to  find  some  reasonable  defence  for  them;  but  he  had 
sought  in  vain.  So  notwithstanding  the  great  anxiety 
that  must  have  filled  his  breast,  while  contemplating  such 
a  change,  Merton  resolved  to  yield  to  the  demands  of  his 
heart  and  soul  for  a  more  liberal  faith.  This  faith  he 
hoped  to  find  in  the  Episcopal  Church. 

There  were  also  other  reasons  that  might  have  deterred 
Merton  from  executing  his  purpose:  all  his  old  acquaint- 
ances, the  members  of  his  own  family,  and  his  most  inti- 
mate friends  were  in  the  church  he  was  leaving.  He 
knew  well  that  parting  from  that  body  meant,  to  no  small 
extent,  leaving  his  friends.  He  should  not  again  join 
them  in  social  gatherings,  nor  unite  with  them  in  singing 
their  songs  of  praise.  No  good  blood  ran  in  the  veins  of 
these  he  was  forsaking  for  those  he  was  seeking;  for  the  min- 
isters of  the  latter  body  looked  on  those  of  the  former  as, 
at  most,  only  laymen  without  any  power  to  administer 
the  sacraments,  or  perform  any  priestly  function,  in  the 
church  of  God.  Merton  knew  all  this;  but  yet  he  could 
not  bring  his  soul  any  longer  to  accept  those  narrow  dog- 
mas whose  bitter  results  he  had  seen  so  clearly  manifested. 
It  was  hard  to  sever  ministerial  relations;  but  Merton 
was  comforted  at  the  thought  that  what  had  been  done, 

had  been  so  well  done. 

156 


UNREASONABLE  DOGMAS.  157 

Merton's  first  ministry  was  now  ended,  and  he  felt 
glad  at  heart.  Having  had  for  some  time  many  doubts  con- 
cerning not  a  few  of  the  fundamental  doctrines  of  so-called 
evangelical  theology,  he  felt  great  abhorrence  toward  the 
doctrine  of  salvation  by  faith,  as  generally  taught  and  be- 
lieved by  its  leaders.  In  his  opinion  such  a  doctrine  was 
no  less  morally  dangerous  than  philosophically  absurd: 
morally  dangerous,  because  it  confers  on  the  unjust  un- 
merited benefits,  but  fails  to  reward  the  really  good  and 
meritorious,  therefore  removing  the  only  sufficient  sanction 
for  a  virtuous  life;  and  philosophically  absurd,  because  it 
separates  the  shadow  from  the  substance,  and  bases  itself 
upon  the  magic  of  miracles.     Says  Aristotle: 

*'M/a     xeXtScof     tap     ov     woiei,     oi>5£     pla     ripipa.  ovtw     5e    ovoe 

paxdpiov  Kal  ev8a.lp.ova  pia  ■fjpe'pa  oj)5'  6X1705  xphvos.  E5  \iyerai. 
8ti  £k  rod  diicaia.  Trpdrreiv  6  8iKaio5  yiverai.  Ovk  iirj  5'd.v  ovde 
Tipijs  dittos   (pav\os    wv,  rrjs   dpeTrjs  yap     ddXov    17    riprj,     Kal    diro viper ai 

tois  dyadois — One  swallow  does  not  make  a  spring,  nor  one 
day;  nor  does  one  day,  nor  a  little  time,  make  a  man  happy 
and  blessed.  It  is  well  said  that  man  becomes  just  from 
the  practice  of  justice.  Nor  should  a  man  who  is  base,  be 
considered  worthy  of  honor;  for  honor  is  the  reward  of  vir- 
tue, and  is  assigned  to  the  good."  (Nico.  Eth.  1.  7,  16;  11. 
4,  5;  iv.  3,  15.)  But,  unlike  this  rational  teaching  of  Aris- 
totle, the  doctrine  of  salvation  by  faith,  so  prominent  in 
preaching,  teaches  that  the  dying  thief  or  murderer  may 
by  one  act  of  faith  be  as  worthy  of  entering  into  the  heaven 
of  heavens,  as  the  most  virtuous  soul  who  has  labored  all 
his  days  to  do  good,  and  refrain  from  evil.  More  than  this: 
it  says  that  such  thief  or  murderer  may,  by  trusting  in  an- 
other's righteousness,  receive  the  reward  of  eternal  life; 
whereas  the  morally  pure  and  noble-minded,  by  trusting  in 
his  own  righteousness  and  not  in  another's,  will  be  adjudged 
worthy  of  eternal  damnation.    The  murderer  or  the  vicious- 


I5§  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

minded  cries  to  God,  as  such  naturally  would,  for  forgive- 
ness; and  looking  to  Christ's  merit,  he  no  sooner  cries  than, 
washed  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb,  he  is  made  as  white  as 
snow,  and  fit  for  his  heavenly  home.  But  the  murdered, 
cut  off  without  warning,  falls  into  outer  darkness,  where 
there  shall  be  weeping  and  wailing  and  gnashing  of  teeth,  to 
rise  no  more  forever  out  of  his  deep,  dark  dungeon  of  pain 
and  woe.  Reason  tells  us  that  character  should  be  the  only 
test  of  moral  worth,  this  doctrine  denies  it;  reason  tells  us 
that  purity  of  soul  can  only  be  attained  to  by  long  and  per- 
sistent effort  after  the  good;  this  doctrine  holds  it  can  be 
attained,  without  money  and  without  price,  in  a  moment,  in 
the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  even  by  one  faithful  look  at  the 
cross  of  Christ.  Reason  assures  us  that  every  man  should 
be  rewarded  according  to  his  own  deeds;  this  doctrine 
teaches  that  man  will  receive  the  highest  reward  the  Infinite 
One  can  bestow,  not  because  of  his  own  good  deeds,  but  for 
the  sake  of  those  of  another.  Cicero  teaches  that  eudaimo- 
nia  or  bcata  vita  (true  happiness)  is  the  direct  result  of 
one's  own  virtuous  actions;  but  this  doctrine  teaches  that 
the  beata  vita  of  Christ,  which  naturally  resulted  to  him 
from  his  own  beautiful  and  virtuous  life,  may  be  miracu- 
lously mine  by  imputation, no  matter  how  degrading  my  life 
may  have  been;  that  is,  it  teaches  that  the  shadow  may  exist 
apart  from  the  substance.  As  well  might  we  teach  the  ex- 
istence of  a  child  without  a  parent,  or  of  a  product  without 
its  factors.  Merton  could  not  accept  such  a  ruinous  doc- 
trine. He  believed,  as  he  should,  that  no  man  can  be  saved 
in  this  world,  and,  therefore,  in  no  other,  by  any  righteous- 
ness excepting  his  own.  This  righteousness,  Merton  felt 
certain,  is  produced  by  doing  well  from  noble  motives.  He 
could  not  help  accepting  the  teachings  of  Aristotle,  which 
is  simply  the  teaching  of  common-sense;  on  the  other 
hand,  he  could  not  believe  in  the  doctrine  cf  salvation  by 


UNREASONABLE   DOGMAS.  1 59 

faith,  being,  as  it  is,  contradictory  to  all  our  ideas  of  justice, 
and  to  natural  law.  He  was  glad,  therefore,  to  have  done 
with  that  popular  form  of  faith  which  makes  this  doctrine 
so  prominent  in  its  theology,  whether  considered  in  its  the- 
oretical or  practical  sense. 

Again,  Merton  could  not  see  any  justice  in  the  doctrine 
of  a  fixed  state  after  death.  Rather  was  he  conscious  that 
every  inference  he  got  from  life  in  this  world,  went  to  dis- 
prove it.  There  are  countless  hosts  of  men  who,  though 
they  put  forth  strenuous  efforts  to  lift  themselves  above  and 
out  of  their  surroundings,  yet  die  in  despair,  engulfed  in 
the  immoral  filth  in  which  they  were  born  and  raised;  like- 
wise are  there  multitudes  who,  though  they  put  forth 
scarcely  any  efforts  of  their  own,  yet  because  of  their  inher- 
ited tendencies,  family  relations, early  associations,  and  ed- 
ucation, live  fairly  good,  moral  lives,  and  die  what  are  called 
good  church-members.  According  to  the  doctrine  of  a  fixed 
state  after  death,  the  former  are  eternally  damned,  while  the 
latter  are  eternally  blest.  Now,  if  any  man  can  see  a  par- 
ticle of  justice  in  such  judgment,  he  must  certainly  look 
through  other  eyes  than  those  of  reason.  Certainly  there 
would  be  no  justice  in  such  decrees.  If  it  were  possible  lor 
the  God  of  the  universe  thus  to  judge,  it  is  certain  that  He, 
being  of  such  character,  must  remain  unknown  to  us.  But 
such  conclusion,  if  accepted,  would  make  every  priest  in 
the  world  without  means  of  support,  and  homeless.  In 
the  nature  of  the  case,  therefore,  it  is  one  which  theolo- 
gians will  not  be  likely  to  accept;  although  they  could  not 
reasonably  do  otherwise  than  accept  it,  if  the  dogma  of  a 
fixed  state  after  death  be  true.  Because  reason  assures 
us,  that  such  a  doctrine  is  most  unjust;  and,  if  reason  in 
this  consideration  be  self-deceived,  then  it  certainly  may  be 
in  any  other  consideration,  and,  therefore,  in  that  of  God's 
will  concerning  us. 


l6o  FOOTPRINTS    OF    A   SOUL. 

I  am  descended  from  devotional  parents.  Being  mora! 
and  law-abiding  themselves,  they  naturally  sought  to  have 
their  descendants  so.  It  is  certain,  therefore,  that  I  inher- 
ited a  moral  and  religious  nature,  or  tendency.  I  have 
never  found  it  necessary  to  make  any  special  efforts  in  order 
to  live,  what  is  called,  a  moral,  or  even  religious  life  ;  rather 
have  I  found  that  my  hereditary  tendencies  and  early 
teachings  and  example,  have  made  it  hard  for  me  to  4i  kick 
against  the  pricks,  "  or  not  to  worship  the  God  of  my 
fathers.  I  know  others  who,  descending  from  notoriously 
immoral  progenitors,  and  brought  up  in  the  surroundings  of 
their  birth,  have  lived  and  died,  only  to  repeat  the  life  and 
death  of  their  progenitors.  It  is  true,  in  many  cases,  they 
have  longed  for  something  better, — better  food,  better 
clothing,  better  associations,  better  thoughts  ;  but  as  the 
leopard  can  not  change  his  spots,  so  they  have  failed  to  bet- 
ter very  much  their  condition,  and  in  their  death  have 
simply  showed  how  their  fore-fathers  died.  Now,  I  have  no 
doubt  whatever  that  many  of  those  have  made  more  exer- 
tion after  a  higher  life,  than  some  who  have  shone  in  church 
and  society  as  suns  ;  yet,  while  the  latter  are  eternally 
blessed  for  their  little  effort,  the  former  are  eternally  damned 
for  their  strenuous  but  fruitless  endeavor  after  a  better  life. 
In  other  words,  while  the  one  is  blessed  for  doing  what  he 
never  did;  the  other  is  damned  for  not  doing  what  he  could 
not  possibly  do.  That  the  God  whom  I  adore,  could  so 
judge,  I  can  not,  I  will  not,  believe  ;  for  thus  believing,  I 
should  be  guilty  of  blaspheming  his  most  holy  name. 

Again,  it  is  certain  that  while  some  are  born  with  highly 
developed  devotional  powers,  others  are  born  with  scarcely 
any  at  all.  In  the  former  case,  the  child  is  almost  sure  to 
be  religious;  in  the  latter  case,  almost  sure  not  to  be  so.  As 
some  are  born  with  good  eyes,  and  become  sharp-shooters, 
so  some  are  born  with  highly  developed,  spiritual  sight,  and 


UNREASONABLE    DOGMAS.  l6l 

become  leaders  in  the  moral  and  spiritual  world.  But  is  it 
possible  that  a  just  God  can  blame  me,  because  I  am  not  a 
sharp-shooter,  when  my  eyes  were  such  from  my  birth,  as  to 
make  it  impossible  for  me  to  see  well  ?  In  like  manner,  is  it 
possible  that  a  just  God  can  damn  me  for  not  being  relig- 
ious, when  in  my  very  nature  I  lack  the  devotional  elements  ? 
Let  those  who  will,  believe  such  calumny  against  the  wise 
God  and  Father  of  all ;  I  will  not.  Here  will  I  stand,  God 
helping  me  ;  though  every  created  being  in  the  universe  be 
guilty  of  injustice,  I  will  never  believe  that  the  Fountain  of 
truth  and  life  can  be.  Therefore  I  do  not  believe  in  the  doc- 
trine of  a  fixed  state  after  death,  because  of  the  injustice 
necessarily  attending  it.  Nor  could  I  believe  in  such  doc- 
trine for  the  following  reason  :  God  is  necessarily  every- 
where present,  pervading  and  upholding  all  things.  He  is 
therefore  present  in  this  world.  But  there  are  no  evidences 
of  a  fixed  state  in  this  life  ;  on  the  contrary,  all  is  constant 
change.  Every  sun-rise  brings  with  it  new  opportunities, 
every  sun-set  carries  with  it  lost  ones.  The  possibilities  of 
improvement  remain  throughout  our  life, — hope  never  dies. 
There  being  but  one  God,  or  one  universal  Mind  ruling  and 
pervading  all  things,  it  would  seem  most  reasonable  to  be- 
lieve that  as  He  governs  here,  so  He  governs  elsewhere  ; 
and  that,  therefore,  since  during  our  present  life  the  possi- 
bilities of  improvement  remain  with  us,  so  throughout  the 
life  which  is  to  come,  such  possibilities  must  continue. 

The  Judgment-day  is  not  a  far  off  event,  but  is  ever  with 
us,  and  the  character  of  that  judgment,  is  well  and  certainly 
known.  It  is  far  better  expressed  in  the  Theosophic  doc- 
trine of  karma  than  in  so-called  Evangelical  theology.  The 
words  of  the  Vedas  are  certainly  true  and  just :  "  According 
as  a  man  act,  and  according  as  he  believes,  so  will  he  be  : 
a  man  of  good  acts  will  become  good  ;  a  man  of  bad  acts, 
bad."     Inasmuch  as  Methodism  is  most  uncompromising  in 


1 62  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

asserting  the  fixed  nature  of  the  future  state,  Merton  was 
glad  for  this  reason  also  that  he  had  left  its  fold. 

Having  ceased  to  act  in  union  with  his  old  people,  Mer- 
ton's  congregation  invited  him  to  preach  to  them  independ- 
ently until  he  should  be  called  away, or  while  his  duties 
permitted.  This  he  did, at  the  same  time  giving  especial  at- 
tention to  the  performance  of  such  duties  as  might  hasten  his 
admission,  as  a  minister,  into  the  Protestant  Episcopal 
Church.  The  several  kindly  written  letters,  received  from 
the  bishop  of  that  church  assured  him  of  a  most  hearty  wel- 
come; but  he  would  have  to  receive  the  rites  of  confirmation, 
and  ordination,  before  he  could  assume  any  ministerial 
work;  for  as  yet  he  had  never  been  ordained, not  even  by 
the  church  he  had  left;  and  even  if  he  had  been, such  ordi- 
nation is  not  accepted  as  valid  by  Episcopalians.  It  was 
therefore  to  such  preparation  as  was  required  for  the  recep- 
tion of  these  rites,  that  he  gave  his  particular  attention.  It 
must  not  be  supposed  from  what  we  have  said, that  there  was 
any  severe  labor  connected  with  Merton 's  entering  the  Prot- 
estant Episcopal  Church.  As  far  as  the  rite  of  confirmation 
was  concerned, there  was  nothing  for  him  to  do  but  merely 
to  receive  it;  and  the  same  might  almost  be  said  with  regard 
to  his  ordination, the  learning  required  for  ordination  to  the 
priesthood  being  but  little  in  amount,  and  common  in 
quality.  Even  this  little  is  frequently  greatly  lessened  by 
the  bishop,  who  has  power  by  canon  to  dispense  with  the  ex- 
aminations in  Hebrew,  Greek, and  L,atin,  the  only  parts  of 
the  examination  that  could  be  considered  at  all  difficult. 
The  examinations  in  the  ancient  languages  mentioned, 
even  when  fully  borne,  may  be  passed  by  an  applicant 
who  has  but  little  more  than  an  elementary  knowledge  of 
them. 

Merton  was  not  a  little  pained  to  leave  some  of  the  peo- 
ple of  his  charge;  especially  may  this  be  said  of  the  people 
at  Budds,who  had  always  been  most  attentive  to  all  his 


UNREASONABLE    DOGMAS.  1 63 

wants, and  faithful  in  their  attendance  on  the  services.  Not 

one  unpleasant  thing  ever  occurred  to  mar  his  happiness; 
but  their  kindness  seemed  to  increase  the  longer  he 
preached  to  them.  Such  friends  as  these,  it  was  painful  to 
leave;  but  the  pain  was  as  that  which  precedes  the  joy  that 
a  child  is  born  into  the  world.  Although  not  yet  fully  born 
into  the  light,  Merton's  soul  was  struggling  to  get  entirely 
free;  and  the  sense  of  comparative  freedom,  with  the  pros- 
pect of  still  wider  liberty,  made  him  pour  forth  his  soul  in 
thanksgiving  to  God.  As  angels  rolled  away  the  stone 
that  stopped  the  upward  flight  of  Jesus,  so  had  God  re- 
moved one  at  least  that  had  kept  the  soul  of  Merton  shut 
up  in  sepulchral  gloom.  It  was  indeed  his  first  resurrection. 
THE  SONG  OF  CREATION. 

BY   HENRY    TRURO    BRAY. 

Shining  seraphim  who  are  watching  by  the  tomb-imprisoned  Lord, 
Waiting  the  prophetic  moment,  serving  the  Eternal  Word; 
Decked  with  majesty  and  power  from  Jehovah's  awful  throne, — 
Tell  me,  ye  celeatial  legates,  if  ye've  rolled  away  the  stone. 
List  the  glad  chorus  which  floats  on  the  wave: 
Light  is  now  streaming  through  the  gloom  of  the  grave. 

Hark!  the  peals  of  jubilant  heaven  fill  the  universal  deep, 
Rising  from  th'  angelic  choir,  surging  'neath  the  Eternal's  feet; 
Breaking  all  the  awful  stillness  which  pervades  the  dark  abyss, 
Filling  every  heart  with  rapture,  deluging  the  world  in  bliss. 
List  the  glad  chorus  which  floats  on  the  wave: 
Death  is  made  captive  in  his  kingdom,  the  grave. 

Hark!    the  tremulous,  resonant  harmony   pulsates   through  cre- 
ation's space, 
Vivifying  nature's  being,  quickening  it  with  streams  of  grace. 
Rushing  on, the  seraph-chanters  thrill  the  globes  with  cadent tread, 
And  the  sympathetic  atoms  vibrate  deep  among  the  dead. 
List  the  glad  chorus  which  floats  on  the  wave: 
Life  is  now  throbbing  in  the  death  of  the  grave. 

See  these  flashes  of  lightning  so  vivid!    How  the  deafening  thun- 

[ders  roar! 
Look!  the  hosts  of  heaven,  prostrate,  vail  tneir  faces,  and  adore! 
Nature's  soul  is  all  attendant,  conscious  of  these  portents  dread — 
From  the  throne  the  voice  proceedeth :  Christ  is  risen  from  the  dead. 
Fly  ye  bright  choristers  down  from  on  high; 
Jesus  is  risen,  and  man  shall  not  die. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

I.OYAI/TY  TO  TRUTH. 

Die  Unschuld  hat  im  Himmel  einen  Freund — 
Innocency  has  in  Heaven  a  friend. 

(Schiller:   Wilhelm  Tell) 

Lines  on  the  birth  of  Merton's  first  little  daughter; 

Beautiful,  beautiful  sky, 

Decked  with  pearls  so  bright; 

Palace  of  angels  on  high, 

Flooded  with  roseate  light! 

Thy  worlds  forever  in  harmony  roll 

To  the  music  of  God  who  is  harmony's  soul. 

Beautiful,  beautiful  earth, 

Beating  with  life-giving  love, 

Bursting  with  laughter  and  mirth, 

Radiant  with  light  from  above! 

Thy  lawns  and  thy  bowers,  entrancingly  sweet, 

Are  a  temple  of  God  where  we  kneel  at  His  feet. 

Beautiful,  beautiful  child, 

Light  that  scatters  our  gloom; 

Cheerful  and  trustful  and  mild, 

Emblem  of  life  from  the  tomb! 

May  angels  to  thee  as  guardians  be  given, 

Directing  and  guiding  thy  footsteps  to  heaven. 

(H.  T.  B.) 

It  was  only  five  months  after  having  left  his  old  asso- 
ciations, when  Merton  was  ordained  to  the  ministry  of  the 
Protestant  Episcopal  Church.  He  loved  the  pulpit  as  the 
place  where  reason,  as  a  flower,  .should  scatter  its  perfume, 
and  display  its  beauty. 

Merton  was  probably  never  entirely  free  from  doubt. 
But  fully  believing  that  there  is  a  substratum  of  truth  in  all 

religious  teaching,  and  not  as  yet  being  fully  convinced  as 

164 


LOYALTY   TO   TRUTH.  I 65 

to  what  that  substratum  is,  or  is  not,  and  fearing  lest  by 
yielding  to  his  doubts,  he  might  lose  the  truth  itself, 
Merton  decided  to  keep  on,  ready  and  determined,  at  all 
times,  to  cast  to  the  winds  any  belief  that  he  held,  as  soon 
as  he  should  become  convinced  of  its  falsity.  While  in 
doubt,  he  might  hesitate  to  speak;  but  when  convinced 
that  something  taught  as  a  vital,  religious  principle,  was 
only  a  base  superstition,  nothing  could  prevent  him  from 
asserting  his  convictions. 

Merton  believed  that  man  is  first  of  all,  and  more  than 
all,  accountable  to  God  for  the  privileges  of  life,  and  that 
the  highest  privilege  of  life  is  the  enjoyment  of  reason.  It 
is  the  reason  that  elevates  man  above  the  brute  creation ; 
and  it  is  by  the  use  of  reason  that  man  determines  the  ways 
of  nature  and  of  nature's  God.  Through  the  reason,  there- 
fore, does  God  reveal  himself;  and  by  the  use  of  reason 
does  man  make  himself  most  like  God.  The  man,  there- 
fore, who  stifles  his  convictions,  and  silences  the  thoughts 
of  his  soul,  interrupts  the  divine  revelation,  prevents  the 
Divine  Being  from  manifesting  himself,  and  thus  most 
clearly  sins  against  God,  the  Holy  Ghost.  True  it  is  that 
man,  not  being  God,  must  frequently  err  in  the  use  of 
his  reason;  but  so  is  it  equally  true  that  man,  being  man, 
without  the  free  and  untramelled  use  of  his  reason,  must 

* 

fall  to  the  position  of  a  slave,  lower  himself  to  the  1  lane 
of  the  brute,  and  make  it  impossible  that  he  should  be  the 
subject  of  a  virtuous  thought  or  act. 

Merton  was  always  led  by  a  love  for  the  truth,  conscious 
that  by  a  knowledge  of  the  truth  alone  could  man  hope  to 
get  salvation.  Loyal  to  Truth,  he  could  not  be  forced  to  be- 
tray her,  whether  by  threat  of  ecclesiastical  censure,  or  by 
conscious  fear  of  the  loss  of  position.  Should  the  reader  have 
asked, what  is  the  truth;  Merton  would  have  answered:  It 
is  the  agreement  of  the  idea  with  the  facts  and  conditions  of 


1 66  FOOTPRINTS   OP  A  SOUL. 

the  thing  under  cognition ;  but  that  man  can  not  be  held 
accountable  for  not  having,  at  all  times,  correct  ideas  about 
the  objects  of  his  cognition,  but  only  for  acting  according  to 
the  truth,  as  far  as  he  is  able  to  determine  it.  The  man 
who  does  wrong,  while  striving  to  do  right,  is  moved  by  a 
noble  motive,  though  accomplishing  no  virtuous  act,  and 
such  a  man  can  not  reasonably  be  condemned  of  sin  against 
God;  but  the  man  who  happens  to  do  right,  without  putting 
forth  a  conscious  effort  to  accomplish  it,  can  not  be  said  to 
have  performed  a  virtuous  act,  nor  to  have  been  the  subject 
of  a  noble  motive.  Such  an  act  is  no  more  virtuous  or  noble 
than  the  act  of  a  dog  in  following  its  master,  or  of  the  cow 
in  coming  to  her  milking-place.  One  may,  therefore,  do 
right,  and  yet  be  a  great  sinner;  because  he  may  not  have 
used  his  reason  to  determine  whether  the  act  he  wras  about 
to  perform,  should  or  should  not  be  done.  Thus  he  hid  in 
a  napkin  the  greatest  gift  of  God  to  man.  God  as  God  is 
free  to  act;  and  his  action,  since  He  is  infinite,  must  at  all 
times  be  agreeable  to  the  truth;  but  man  as  man,  being  the 
child  of  God,  and  therefore  godlike,  while  he  also  may  be 
at  all  times  free  to  act,  can  not  act  at  all  times  agreeably  to 
the  truth,  but  only  to  his  convictions,  or  to  the  truth  as  far 
as  he  is  able  to  determine  it.  The  man  who  is  loyal  to  his 
own  convictions,  while  in  his  heart  at  all  times  on  the  side 
of  truth,  will  sometimes  be  found  supporting  an  error. 
This  follows  from  the  fact  that  he  is  not  God;  it  does  not 
show  a  lack  of  goodness  or  virtue.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
man  who  is  not  loyal  to  his  own  convictions,  can  never  be 
called  a  good  or  virtuous  man;  nor  can  he  ever  really  know 
the  truth:  for  in  the  heart  thus  false  to  God  and  itself, 
nothing  truly  good  or  beautiful  can  take  up  its  abode, 
much  less  truth,  the  supreme  good  of  all.  Nothing  could 
make  Merton  false  to  his  own  convictions.  This  was  clear- 
ly shown  at  the  time  of  his  ordination.     While  passing  his 


LOYALTY    TO    TRUTH.  1 67 

examination  in  Systematic  Theologj',  he  boldly  said 
that  he  could  not  accept  the  examiner's  view  of  a  question, 
and  insisted  on  his  own.  The  examiner  thereupon  appealed 
to  the  work  of  Pearson  on  the  Creed.  Merton  replied  that 
he  was  sorry  for  the  church  that  Pearson  had  held  such 
views,  as  it  most  clearly  proved  to  his  mind  the  author's 
ignorance  of  almost  the  first  principles  of  science;  that  how- 
ever high  Pearson  might  stand  in  the  estimation  of  church- 
men, he  himself  could  not  accept  his  conclusions  on  the 
subject  in  question.  The  examiner  then  replied  that  Mer- 
ton's  view  was  heretical.  To  this  charge  Merton  answered, 
that  if  his  views  were  heretical,  so  much  the  worse  for  the 
church;  that  if  they  ordained  him,  they  would  be  obliged 
to  ordain  a  heretic, since  he  would  not  change  his  view  of  the 
matter  for  Pearson  or  any  number  of  Pearsons, unless  they 
were  able  to  prove, to  his  satisfaction, that  he  was  in  error. 

"Allow  me  to  call  the  bishop, Mr.  Merton,  that  we  may 
have  his  opinion  on  the  question,"  said  the  examiner. 

The  bishop  having  been  asked  the  question,  answered 
precisely  as  Merton  had. 

"  But,  bishop,"  said  the  examiner,  "  you  are  certainly 
wrong;    for  Pearson  holds  that  such  a  view  is  heretical." 

"  What  does  Pearson  say?"  asked  the  bishop. 

The  examiner  then  took  Pearson,  and  slowly  read  his 
views,  whereupon  the  bishop  said: 

"  All  right;  I  stand  corrected.  I  presume  neither  Mr. 
Merton  nor  myself  wishes  to  be  at  war  with  good  old 
Pearson,  who  has  weathered  so  many  storms.  I  take  him  to 
be  a  very  good  navigator  in  these  perilous  times. ' ' 

"Well,  bishop,  "replied  Merton,  "I  do  not  know  whether 
I  am  really  right  or  not;  but  I  do  know  that  a  man  should 
think  too  much  of  his  own  opinion  to  change  it,  simply  be- 
cause Pearson, who  was  but  a  man  like  other  men,  teaches 
the  contrary.  He  gives  me  no  sufficient  reason, in  what  he 


1 68  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUI.. 

says, for  abjuring  my  view  and  adopting  his.  If  I  am  heret- 
ical, it  is  better  that  it  should  be  known,  and  that  I  should 
now  know  it, that  I  may  stop  before  it  is  too  late.  I  can  not 
change  my  view  of  the  question  simply  to  conform  to  those 
of  Pearson,  nor  for  anything  less  than  sufficient  reasons;  and 
these  have  not  been  adduced. ' ' 

"It  is  not  a  matter  of  such  great  importance,"  said  the 
bishop;  "I  presume  differences  do  no  harm  in  the  long  run. 
They  only  serve  to  stir  us  up  a  little." 

"I  can't  think  it  right, bishop, "said  the  examiner,  "to 
give  it  up  in  this  way.  Mr.  Merton  should  certainly  know 
that  Pearson  is  with  us  a  standard  work;  and  that  men  who 
come  to  us,  are  expected  to  conform  to  the  standards  in  use 
among  us.  I  myself  feel  like  protesting  against  such 
freedom." 

"  Tisn't  a  very  vital  matter,"  replied  the  bishop.  "  It 
may  be  Mr.  Merton  will  come  over  to  Pearson's  side  yet; 
I  think  he  will  at  least." 

"It  may  not  be  a  very  vital  matter,"  answered  the  ex- 
aminer; "and  I  presume  it  is  not.  Yet  I  insist  that  no  one 
should  be  ordained  in  our  church  who  cannot  heartily  as- 
sent to  the  teachings  of  such  standard  writers  as  Pearson." 

"Did  you  yourself  never  have  a  doubt  in  your  heart 
about  many  matters  that  by  some  would  be  called  essentials 
of  the  faith?' '  asked  the  bishop.  "I  do  not  know  that  I  am 
called  upon  to  answer  such  questions, ' '  replied  the  examiner. 
"One  thing  sure, if  I  have  had  such  doubt, nobody  has  ever 
heard  me  express  it;  and  what  isn't  expressed,  can't  do 
much  mischief.  There' s  an  old  saying  that  a  sin  unrevealed 
is  half  forgiven;  and  there's  much  of  truth  in  this.  A  heresy 
unexpressed  will  not  have  the  effect  of  drawing  honest  souls 
away  from  the  truth."  "I  differ  with  you  totally,  sir,"  re- 
plied Merton.  "If  one  thing  be  more  detestable  than 
another,  that   which   is  the   most  detestable  of  all,  is  a 


LOYALTY  TO  TRUTH.  1 69 

man  who  believes  in  his  heart  one  thing,  and  teaches 
another.  Nor  is  the  man  much  better  whose  heart  is 
eaten  with  doubt,  when  he  declares  that  it  is  the  tem- 
ple of  certainty.  If  I  had,  as  you  say  you  have  had,  doubt 
about  the  truth  of  what  I  preached,  I  would  either  state 
that  doubt,  or  I  would  refuse  to  preach  on  that  subject. 
Not  to  do  this,  would  be  to  deceive  my  hearers,  and  debase 
my  own  consciousness.  L,et  me  be  ten-thousand  heretics 
rather  than  one  deceiver.  But  I  fear  the  pulpits  are  full  of 
men  who  do  just  as,  we  infer  from  what  you  say,,  you  have 
done." 

"I  don't  think,"  said  the  examiner,  "that  I  have  given 
you  any  right  to  make  any  inferences  whatever.  If  you 
choose  to  make  such  inference,  you  have  the  liberty  of 
doing  so. ' ' 

' '  I  must  say, ' '  replied  the  bishop, '  'one  would  naturally 
make  such  inference  from  what  you  have  said.  But  let  us 
hear  no  more  about  this  matter.  If  it  were  a  vital  question, 
I  should  hesitate  to  proceed  any  further,  before  getting  Mr. 
Merton's  assent  to  it;  but  it  is  not.  It  is  impossible  to  get 
all  men  to  be  of  the  same  mind.  If  Mr.  Merton  determines 
to  adhere  to  his  opinion  of  the  matter,  I  shall  not  make  it 
a  reason  for  refusing  ordination.  I  do  not  think  his  view 
can  justly  be  considered  heretical." 

' 'All  right,  bishop, ' '  replied  the  examiner;  "I  am  will- 
ing to  be  governed  by  you  in  the  case;  but  it  does  appear 
to  me  that  according  to  Pearson,  it  is  an  heretical  view." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE    CALL    OF   DUTY. 

This  above  all, — To  thine  own  self  be  true; 
And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day, 
Thou  canst  not  then  be  false  to  any  man. 

(S.'zakspere.) 

Merton  had  now  been  settled  for  some  time  as  the  min- 
ister of  a  very  nice  congregation,  in  one  of  the  southern 
states.  The  parish  had  been  in  a  declining  state  for  several 
years;  and  at  the  time  of  Merton 's  coming  into  it,  it  was 
thought  to  be  almost  beyond  recover}7.  But  Merton' s  zeal 
became  everywhere  manifest,  in  the  Sunday  school,  in  the 
pulpit,  and  in  his  pastoral  visits. 

In  the  pulpit  he  seemed  on  fire  with  the  intense  earnest- 
ness of  his  soul.  No  one  could  doubt  his  sincerity:  he 
preached  most  to  himself;  and  when  thus  preaching,  he  ap- 
peared to  convince  himself  of  the  truth  of  the  cause  he  was 
so  earnestly  pleading;  and  in  convincing  himself,  he  con- 
vinced his  hearers.  His  congregation  grew,  his  people 
loved,  trusted,  almost  worshiped  him.  But  as  the  "gods 
do  not  give  man  all  things  at  once, ' '  such  peace  and  pros- 
perity were  too  much  for  one  man  to  enjoy.  The  cup  for 
man's  bliss,  in  this  world,  though  shallow,  is  scarcely  ever 
filled ;  but  his  cup  for  misery,  though  deep,  is  frequently 
running  over.  But  Merton' s  people  were  apparently  trying 
to  fill  his  cup  with  bliss.  They  were  working  in  harmony; 
they  attended  faithfully  on  the  services  of  the  church;  they 
rejoiced  at  his  presence  in  the  pulpit, and  in  their  homes;  and 
they  ministered  gladly  to  all  his  wants.  While  day  by  day 
they  thus  increased  the  contents  of  his  cup  of  bliss,  they 
added  nothing  to  his  cup  of  misery,  but  sought  to  take  from 

it  the  little  it  contained.     They  were  a  generous,  whole- 

170 


THE    CALL   OF    DUTY.  171 

souled,  noble  people;  and  Merton  loved  them  as  if  his  own. 

It  was  a  hot,  sultry  climate;  the  atmosphere  acted  on 
one  like  a  steam-bath;  and  Merton  lied  been  accustomed  to 
a  northern  temperature.  The  fact  that  he  w7as  not  as  yet 
fully  acclimated,  exposed  him  to  various  prevailing  dis- 
eases; and  his  extraordinary  labors  weakened  his  system, 
making  him  still  less  capable  of  resisting  disease. 

Finally  all  the  premonitory  symptoms  of  yellow  fever 
came  upon  him;  pains  in  the  back  and  limbs,  yellowness  of 
the  skin  and  eyes,  and  supraorbital  headache;  yet  he  would 
not  desist  from  his  labors  until  compelled  for  the  lack  of 
strength  to  stand.  After  a  sickness  of  about  ten  days,  he 
again  was  able  to  move  around;  but  so  great  was  his  weak- 
ness that  the  people  pressed  him  to  take  a  vacation,  and 
go  north  for  two  months  to  recuperate. 

On  the  day  of  his  leaving,  it  was  everywhere  known  that 
yellow  fever  was  in  the  city ;  and  the  physician  who  attend- 
ed Merton  after  coming  north,  insisted  that  he  had  had  the 
disease;  and  of  the  truth  of  this  physician's  diagnosis,  neither 
Merton,  nor  those  who  saw  him,  had  any  doubt  whatever. 

From  a  loving  mother,  faithful  brother,  and  a  most  de- 
voted wife,  Merton  received  every  possible  care;  and  he 
himself  made  use  of  every  means  calculated  to  aid  in  the  res- 
toration of  his  health.  But  with  all  the  care  and  attention 
he  received,  it  was  nevertheless  at  least  two  months  before 
any  degree  of  health  and  strength  returned.  Even  then 
he  was  pale,  weak  and  emaciated;  but  he  felt  more  cheerful, 
a  little  stronger,  and  on  a  fair  road  to  recovery. 

At  this  time  he  wrote  to  his  vestry,  telling  them  of  his 
condition,  and  offering  to  return  immediately,  if  they  were 
in  need  of  his  presence.  To  this  letter  the  wardens  replied, 
begging  him  not  to  return.  "It  would  be  madness  in  you, ' ' 
they  wrote,  "to  return  to  this  place,  at  the  present  time. 
Your  presence  would  only  add  fuel  to  the  flame,  as  you 


172  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

have  not  yet  been  fully  acclimated.  Don't  come  back 
under  any  circumstances.  All  your  people  that  could  get 
away,  have  left  the  town. ' ' 

Weak  and  broken  as  he  was,  Merton  would  have  re- 
turned to  the  town  in  a  moment, when  the  yellow  scourge 
was  at  its  height,  had  the  wardens  or  his  people  expressed 
the  least  wish  for  his  presence;  but  they  earnestly  advised 
him  not  to  return.  They  being  on  the  ground, and  being 
well  acquainted  with  all  the  attending  circumstances, should 
know  better  than  Merton  what  was  needed, and  what  he 
should  do;  and  Merton  therefore  properly  enough  deter- 
mined to  act  according  to  their  j  udgment.  Now  there  hap- 
pened to  be  a  clergyman  in  the  South, free  from  danger 
himself,  who  for  certain  reasons  was  an  inveterate  enemy  to 
Merton.  This  man  took  it  upon  himself  to  force  Merton  to 
return.  Merton  informed  him  that  he  held  himself,  weak  as 
he  was, subject  to  the  call  of  the  people.  Such  information 
was  not  enough  for  this  clergyman,  who,  it  would  appear, 
would  not  have  gone  into  mourning,  in  case  of  Merton's 
death.  Finally  he  plotted  against  Merton  with  the  bishop; 
and  being  an  old  acquaintance  of  this  clergyman,  the  bishop 
was  led  to  side  with  him, and  thus  became  an  enemy  to  Mer- 
ton, even  taking  away  the  small  appropriation  that  had  been 
given  him  to  assist  in  building  the  parish  up, thus  making  it 
impossible  for  Merton  to  go  back,  even  when  sufficient 
strength  returned.  Dear  as  this  people  and  minister  were  to 
each  other, they  were  driven  asunder  by  the  machinations  of 
an  evil-hearted  clergyman.  Merton  was  always  ready  to  go 
where  duty  called  him ;  but  he  was  not  such  as  could  be  forced 
by  an  enemy  into  doing  anything  against  his  will.  Had  the 
members  of  his  congregation  expressed  any  desire  for  his 
presence,  he  undoubtedly  would  have  gone  back  immedi- 
ately, on  the  very  wings  of  love,  although  it  would, in  all 


THE   CALL   OF   DUTY.  1 73 

probability,  have  cost  him  his  life.  But  we  do  not  mean  by 
this  that  he  would  have  thought  it  wise  to  return.  We  mean 
that  he  would  have  laid  down  his  life  rather  than  that  his 
people  should  ask  for  his  presence  in  vain,  or  think  of  him  as 
being  afraid  of  the  disease.  But  as  he  did  not  think  it, as  no 
one  should, a  sign  of  bravery  to  sacrifice  one's  life,  where 
duty  does  not  call;  he  obeyed  the  advice  of  his  people,  rather 
than  the  dictation  of  his  enemies.  If  the  belief  were  true, 
that  the  prayers  of  a  minister  at  the  dying  bed,  or  the  recep- 
tion of  a  sacrament  by  the  dying,  could  materially  affect  the 
future  of  the  soul,  then  there  would  be  no  question  but  that, 
weak  as  he  was,  Merton  should  have  gone  back, even  against 
the  expressed  wish  of  his  people;  but  such  belief  he  did  not 
and  could  not  accept ;  nor  did  he  believe  that  any  enlightened 
and  unprejudiced  mind  can.  He  never  had  any  faith  in 
death-bed  repentance;  and  he  fully  believed  that  one  good 
nurse  was  worth  any  number  of  praying  priests,  at  the  bed- 
side of  a  sick  man.  That  the  mercy  of  God  is  conditioned  on 
the  prayers  of  a  minister, or  heaven  opened  by  the  power  of 
the  church,  he  considered  not  only  an  absurd  but  a  blasphe- 
mous claim.  Thus  believing,  the  only  use,  in  his  judgment, 
he  could  be  to  the  sick,  would  be  to  act  as  a  nurse;  and  know- 
ing that  his  weakness  and  inexperience  rendered  him  unfit 
to  act  in  that  capacity,  he  concluded  it  wise  to  accept  the  ad- 
vice of  competent  men  who  warned  him  not  to  return;  and  to 
stay  where  his  life,  in  all  probability,  would  be  spared  as  a 
blessing  to  those  most  dear  to  him,  and  dependent  on  his  ex- 
ertions. And  although,  as  he  afterwards  learned, the  bishop 
of  the  diocese  was  not  pleased  at  his  decision,  he  doubted  not 
that  any  sane  and  unprejudiced  man  would  have  approved 
his  course.  The  bishop  was  by  nature  kind-hearted 
and  most  affable;  but  he  was  now  very  old,  and  so 
weak-minded  that,  influenced  as  we  have  said,  he  was 
easily    led   to   act   detrimentally   to    Merton 's    interests. 


174  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

Where  duty  calls  one,  there  should  he  always  be  found, 
serving  God  and  humanity.  Thus  performing  our  part, 
danger  may  surround,  and  threaten  us  on  every  side; 
but  greater  is  the  danger  that  must  ever  threaten  him  who 
shuns  the  performance  of  his  duty.  In  the  former  case,  while 
the  death  of  the  body  is  at  most  only  contingent,  the  life  of 
the  soul  is  certain, because  discharging  one's  duty  ennobles 
the  nature, and  tends  to  the  elevation  of  the  whole  race;  but 
in  the  latter  case,  while  the  life  of  the  body  is  probable,  the 
death  of  the  soul  is  inevitable, because  the  wilful  avoidance 
of  one's  duty,  debases  the  higher  nature,  and  tends  to  the 
degradation  of  humanity.  The  preservation  of  the  body  at 
such  a  cost,  is  vastly  too  expensive.  Here  it  is  certainly  true: 
He  that  would  lose  his  life,  shall  save  it;  and  he  that  would 
save  his  life, shall  lose  it.  Nevertheless,  the  body  is  no  less 
the  work  of  God  than  is  the  soul,  though  the  office  of  the 
former  is  considered  less  noble  than  that  of  the  latter.  It  is, 
therefore,  a  very  grave  sin  to  wilfully  destroy  the  body,  or 
injure  any  of  its  members.  And  even  where  one's  actions 
unintentionally  result  in  the  death  of  the  body,  great  sin 
must  be  incurred,  if  such  result  should  have  been  prevented 
by  the  proper  use  of  reason.  Many  a  man  has  been  given, 
especially  by  the  press, the  death  of  a  hero;  when  wisdom  as- 
sures us, it  was  the  death  of  a  fool.  The  noble  nature  shuns 
no  danger  that  ought  to  be  encountered,  and  runs  into  no 
danger  that  ought  not  to  be  faced.  Where  duty  had  called 
Merton,  there  he  never  knew  what  it  was  to  be  afraid;  but 
he  always  thought  it  most  unwise,  if  not  sinful,  to  rush  un- 
reasonably into  danger.  Says  Aristotle,  than  whom  proba- 
bly no  nobler  person  ever  lived,  and  whose  wisdom  has, 
perhaps,  never  been  equalled: 

''ftoV  iirel  r)  dvdpeia  iariu  17  ^eXrlarr]  e£is  Trepl  (p6(3ovs  Kal  ddppij, 
del  8e  p.rj6'  oi>tu>s  ciis  01  Opaaels  p.r]0  ovtios  us  01  8ei\oi  drjXov  ws 
r)  p.eat)  dt&decris  Opaavrr/TOS  Kal  5ei\ias  earlv  dvdpeia  .... 

H     yap    dvdpela      aKoKovdrjcns    t4>    \b"yip     iariv,    6    be    \670s     rb     Ka\bi> 


THE   CALL   OF   DUTY.  1 75 

acpecaOac  xeksoec.  Aco  xac  \>  pi)  oca  toutov  bnopeviuv  aura,  6utos 
lnrot  e^effTijxev  rj  Opaffus.  '0  fisv  ouv  dtcXos  xac  a  py  8sc  (pofiscTac, 
6  xs  Opaaus  xac  a  prj  8zc  Oappic'  6  <5'  avdpstos  apyu)  d  o£t,  xac 
raurin  psaoS  earcv,  CA  yap  av  6  XoyoS  xsXsurj,  raura  xac  Oappzc 
xac  <p<>j3scTac  —  Since  true  manliness  is  the  best  state  in  rela- 
tion to  fear  and  rashness,  and  since  it  is  necessary  that  the 
truly  brave  should  be  neither  such  as  the  rash  man  is  nor 
such  as  is  the  coward,  it  is  evident  that  the  middle  state  be- 
tween rashness  and  cowardice,  is  true  manliness.  True 
bravery  is  obedience  to  the  reason,  and  reason  bids  us  strive 
for  that  which  is  noble.  Therefore,  he  who,  when  surrounded 
by  danger,  is  not  guided  by  reason,  is  either  cowardly  or 
rash.  The  coward  fears  where  he  should  not,  and  the  rash 
man  is  fearless  where  he  should  not  be.  But  the  truly  brave 
acts  in  both  instances  as  he  should,  and,  therefore,  fills  the 
middle  position  ;  for  he  is  both  fearless  and  fearful  as  rea- 
son directs  him."     (Eud.    Eth.  Ill,  1,  [3-4,  10-12.]  ) 

A*s  far  as  the  fear  of  death  has  affected  me,  I  have  often 
longed  to  die,  to  escape,  as  it  were,  from  a  prison,  and  to  see 
if  perchance  there  be  something  better  in  store  for  me  ;  no 
less  than  to  be  forever  free  from  a  world,  where  the  insincere 
and  the  pretentious  are  received  with  the  plaudits  of  the 
crowd,  while  the  candid  and  truly  learned  seek  in  vain  for 
recognition.  It  can  not  be  doubted  that  humanity  is  as 
greatly  deceived,  as  it  is  given  to  deception.  Mankind  likes 
flattery,  and  to  be  made  the  heir  of  great  expectations.  It 
is  this  in  man  that  offers  such  great  opportunities  to  the 
hypocritical,  the  insincere  and  the  pretentious,  whether  in 
the  pulpit  or  elsewhere  ;  it  is  this  that  gives  the  holy  knave 
and  the  rascally  politician  such  open  fields  to  reap  their 
golden  harvests.  But  longed  as  I  have  to  die,  reason  bids 
me  wait  my  time  ;  to  be  brave,  sincere  and  true,  no  less  for 
my  own  sake  than  as  an  example  to  others.  I  wonder  not, 
however,  at  people  committing  suicide  ;  for  it  takes  a  brave 


176  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

man  to  withstand  the  many  evils  to  which  more  especially 
the  good  are  frequently  subjected;  the  less  brave,  becoming 
disheartened,  seek  rest  in  death.     As  Agathon  says: 

"<t>aiiXoi  fipoT&v  yap  rod  rroveiv  rjaaJj/jievoi 

eavelv  tpCxnv — Base  mortals,   being   worsted   in 
the  conflict  of  life,  prefer  to  die. ' ' 

But  the  truly  brave  will  abide  his  time,  doing  as  best 
he  can,  whatever  his  hands  may  find  to  do;  showing  a  noble 
example  of  patience  and  suffering  to  his  own  and  to  others, 
hoping  thereby  to  ennoble  his  own  character,  and  to  elevate 
the  race.  He  will  not  sacrifice  his  life  nor  jeopardize  it, 
except  for  noble  and  worthy  ends;  but  where  the  voice  of 
reason  calls  him,  there,  if  it  be  proper,  he  is  willing  to  yield 
his  life  into  the  hands  of  Him  who  gave  it.  It  was  in  this 
spirit  that  Merton  acted  with  reference  to  his  work  in  the 
South.  The  act  of  the  bishop, however,  in  withdrawing  from 
the  parish  its  appropriation,  was  designed  to  make  it  im- 
possible for  Merton  to  be  supported.  After  waiting  several 
months  to  see  if  the  bishop  would  not  relent,  Merton  sent 
the  secretary  of  the  vestry  his  resignation,  to  take  immed- 
iate effect,  thus  severing  all  relations  with  the  parish  he 
could  not  fail  to  like,  and  with  a  people  he  could  not  fail  to 
love.  If  ten  thousand  lives  were  given  him,  and  the  use  of 
ten  thousand  tongues,  yet  he  would  not  forget  their  kind- 
ness, nor  cease  to  speak  of  them  with  gratitude  and  love. 

It  was  a  short  time  after  his  resignation,  that  Merton 
received  the  following  letter  from  one  of  the^  principal 
communicants: 

' '  My  dear  Friend ; — I  must  write  you  to  express  my  dis- 
tress at  the  news  of  your  resignation  of  the  charge  of  our 
Church.  I  have  seen  nearly  all  the  people,  and  they  express 
the  greatest  regret  and  distress;  and  all  are  resolved  to  ac- 
cept nobody  else.  We  need  you  so  much, — indeed  I  can  not 
reconcile  myself  to  the  idea  of  your  never  coming  back.  Will 


THE   CALL  OF   DUTY.  1 77 

you  not  come  back  to  us?  All  are  so  much  distressed  at  your 
not  returning.  Can  you  not  be  induced  to  come  back?  Why 
should  you  care  for  what  any  one  else  might  do  or  say ,  when 
all  of  us  want  you.  Do  say  you  will  come  back.  I  can  not 
express  to  you  the  disappointment  of  your  people. ' ' 

"Your  friend,  M.  C." 
To  answer  in  the  affirmative  was  impossible.  The  bar- 
riers an  unkind  bishop  had  set  up,  were  too  high  for 
Merton  to  surmount.  At  this  uncalled-for  act  of  the  bishop, 
Merton  could  not  help  deeply  grieving;  but  in  those  periods 
of  deep  despondency,  his  wife  would  buoy  him  up;  and  no 
man  could  have  long  despaired,  with  such  a  source  of  life 
and  strength  so  near  at  hand. 

Ich  sprach  zur  Sonne:    "Sprich,  was  ist  die  Liebe?" 
Sie  gab  nicht  Antvvort,  gab  niir  goldnes  Licht. 
Ich  sprach  zur  Blume:     "Sprich,  was  ist  die  Liebe?" 
Sie  gab  mir  Duefte,  doch  die  Antwort  nicht. 

Ich  sprach  zum  Ew'gen:     "Sprich,  was  ist  die  Liebe?" 
Ist's  heil'ger  Ernst?  ist's  suesse  Taendelei?" 
Da  gab  mir  Gott  ein  Weib,  ein  treues,  liebes, 
Und  nimmer  fracht'  ich  was  die  Liebe  sei. 

{Ritterhaics.) 


12 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

CLERICAL  SKEPTICISM. 

Wisdom  from  above  is  pure  and  without  hypocrisy. 

(St.  James.) 

A/I  ERTON  now  obtained  a  parish  in  another  state.  He  had 

met  the  bishop,  who  pressed  him  to  take  work  in  his 
diocese.  "Stay  withme,  Mr.  Merton,"  he  said:  "I  believe 
you  are  the  very  man  I  have  been  looking  for.  It  seems  to 
me  God  has  sent  you  to  me.  I  will  make  everything  for  you 
as  pleasant  as  I  possibly  can.  I  treat  my  clergy  well.  I  try 
to  act  to  them  as  a  father,  and  wish  them  to  treat  me  as  such. 
Their  happiness  is  mine, and  I  make  it  a  rule  never  to  betray 
their  confidence.  If  you  stay  with  me,  I  think  you  will  not 
regret  it.  We  have  a  flourishing  state,  and  the  church  work 
of  the  diocese  is  in  a  flourishing  condition.  Men  and  money 
are  all  that's  wanted.    Help  me  build  up  this  great  work. ' ' 

The  bishop  appeared  so  affable,  and  spoke  so  kindly, 
that  Merton  resolved  to  accept  his  invitation ;  and  immedi- 
ately took  work  under  him. 

He  had  not  been  long  in  the  diocese,  before  he  met  a 
clergyman  who  was  rector  of  a  neighboring  parish,  when 
the  following  conversation  took  place: 

"Well,  Mr.  Merton,  how  do  you  like  your  present  posi- 
tion?" 

"I  am  very  well  pleased  with  it,"  replied  Merton. 
"You,  I  believe,  have  been  in  this  diocese  a  great  many 
years.     From  what  diocese  did  you  come?" 

"I  came  from  Pennsylvania  here;  but  I  heartily  wish 
I  had  never  left  that  state. ' ' 

"Why?"  asked  Merton.     "You  have  -a  good  parish, 

and  a  loyal  people.     On  the  whole,  it  seems  to  me,  you 

178 


CLERICAL   SKEPTICISM.  1 79 

should  be  quite  a  happy  man. ' ' 

"Happiness,  Mr.  Merton,  is  a  word.  As  an  existing 
state,  it  is  rarely,  and  perhaps  never,  found.  For  my  part, 
I  no  longer  hope  to  attain  to  such  a  state  of  mind. ' ' 

"I  do  not  know,  sir,"  answered  Merton;  "but  it  seems 
to  me  that  a  man  filling  the  position  you  fill,  should  not 
only  have  the  hope  of  being  happy,  but  even  the  present 
experience  of  happiness." 

: ' I  know, Mr.  Merton, ' ' replied  the  clergyman, '  'that  it  is 
much  to  say  I  have  lost  hope;  but  I  have  had  great  discour- 
agement. When  I  came  here,  the  bishop  made  me  great 
promises.  I  was  at  first  the  chief  minister  in  this  diocese, 
and  the  bishop's  right-hand  man.  I  was  made  the  head  of 
all  the  educational  institutions;  and  the  bishop  sought  to 
advance  my  interests.  Things  were  soon  changed.  The  large 
institution  over  which  I  presided, burned  to  the  ground;  and 
there  are  not  wanting  those  who  believe  that  the  bishop 
burned  it.  One  thing  is  certain:  at  the  time  of  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  institution,  there  had  been  in  it,  for  several  days, 
an  emissary  of  the  bishop.  This  fact  made  out  a  strong  case 
against  the  bishop, inasmuch  as  he  was  known  to  be  opposed 
to  the  site  of  the  institution;  and  the  further  fact  that  he 
afterwards  used  all  his  powers  to  remove  the  centre  of  ed- 
ucational work,  and  finally  succeeded  in  doing  it,  almost, 
made  the  case  complete  against  him.  I  do  not  say  much 
about  it  myself;  but  I  am  sure  that  the  people  of  my  parish 
believe  the  bishop  was  a  party  to  the  burning  up  of  my 
institution." 

"It  is  a  very  grave  charge  even  to  suspect  one  of  doing," 
replied  Merton.  '  'The  bishop  has  been  very  gracious  to  me; 
and  I  hope  we  shall  be  good  friends.  I  am  sorry  that  you 
have  been  disappointed  in  your  hopes;  but  all  of  us  are 
more  or  less. ' ' 

"Disappointed,  Mr.  Merton, is  hardly  a  name  for  it.  I  have 


l8o  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL. 

been  grieved,  hurt  .deeply  wounded, at  my  treatment.  I  have 
a  thousand  times  wished  I  had  never  seen  the  diocese.  It  has 
so  discouraged  me  that  I  am  almost  unfit  for  any  work.  I  tell 
you,  between  the  worry  and  duties  of  a  parish  minister,  and 
the  mischief- working  power  of  a  jealous  and  unfriendly 
bishop,  there  is  little  chance  of  rest  or  peace;  as  for  happi- 
ness, it  is  simply  out  of  the  question." 

"Even  with  all  your  trouble,"  replied  Merton,  "you 
have  the  satisfaction  that  you  are  doing  God's  work,  and  of 
having  upon  you  his  promised  blessing.  After  all,  that  is 
more  than  all  else. ' ' 

"You  are  but  young  as  yet  in  the  work,  Mr.  Merton. 
Things  will  not  look  as  green  to  you  sometime  in  the  future, 
as  now.  Experience  brings  great  changes  over  man's  heart 
and  mind. ' ' 

"I  presume  you  are  right  as  to  that.  Even  in  my  own 
case,  I  am  conscious  of  very  great  changes  that  have  passed 
over  me,  within  the  last  few  years.  Only  a  dead  man  is  not 
subject  to  change.  But  granting  that, yet  it  still  is  true,  that 
no  work  is  so  noble,  as  that  of  trying  to  lift  up  fallen  hu- 
manity." 

"Fallen  humanity!  Mr.  Merton,  what  do  you  mean  by 
such  language?  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  believe  in 
what  is  called  the  fall  of  man?' ' 

"No, sir;  not  as  generally  understood.  I  could  not  think 
of  believing  that  by  one  man's  sin,  all  mankind  fell;  that 
Adam  is  the  trunk,  and  we  the  branches.  The  doctrine  of 
evolution,  now  universally  received  in  some  form  or  other, 
has  shown  that  such  a  belief  is  absurd.  But  I  do  believe  that 
we  all  have  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God;  and  that  hu- 
manity, as  a  whole,  is  in  great  need  of  holy  examples,  and 
fearless  and  scholarly  instructors  who  may  lift  them  up,  by 
pointing  them  out  the  way  to  a  holier  and  better  life. ' ' 

"That  is  acceptable  doctrine, Mr.  Merton.    I  feared  you 


CLERICAL  SKEPTICISM  l8l 

believed  that  humanity  had  fallen  into  some  big  ditch  or 
other, dug  by  the  theologians  of  days  gone  by.  I  am  glad 
you  have  graduated  out  of  such  crudity.  It  is  a  noble  work, 
I  confess, to  be  engaged  in  raising  mankind  up  into  a  higher 
life;  but  much  of  the  pleasure  derived  from  such  activity,  is 
embittered  by  the  sense  of  having  all  around  us  scheming 
priests  and  plotting  bishops.  Indeed,  I  have  often  wished  I 
had  never  seen  the  ministry, nor  put  on  a  surplice. ' ' 

"I  can  not  exactly  understand  you; "said  Merton.  "I 
am  glad  I  am  a  minister.  I  think  no  work  gives  such  blessed 
fruits,  and  that  no  life  can  be  so  well  spent,  as  that  of  a  faith- 
ful minister  of  God. ' ' 

"I  think  you  are  exaggerating,  Mr.  Merton, the  value  of 
ministerial  labors;  but  that  is  quite  natural.  For  myself  I 
doubt  not  that  I  could  have  done  more  good  in  the  world , 
had  I  chosen  exclusively  educational  work;  nor  do  I  think 
the  rewards  of  such  labor  are  second  to  any." 

"The  works  of  the  mind  and  its  education  are  truly  ex- 
cellent," replied  Merton;  "but  surely  the  work  and  educa- 
tion of  the  soul  are  vastly  superior.  The  minister  has  to  do 
with  educating  the  soul, while  the  teacher  has  to  do  with  the 
intellect  only. ' ' 

"You  forget,  Mr.  Merton,  that  the  minister,  nine  times 
out  often,  deals  with,  and  speaks  of,  only  unknown  quanti- 
ties; while  the  teacher  has  to  do  only  with  known  realities. 
The  foundations  of  priestly  labors  are  based  on  faith:  knowl- 
edge is  beyond  his  sphere.  You  remember  the  words  of 
Tennyson : 

'We  have  but  faith:  we  can  not  know; 
For  knowledge  is  of  things  we  see; 
And  vet  we  trust  it  comes  from  thee, 
A  beam  in  darkness:  let  it  grow.' 

On  the  other  hand,  the  work  of  the  teacher  is  based  upon 
experimental  facts.  The  work  of  the  former  is  of  some  other 


1 82  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

world,  heavenly,  but  of  which  nothing  whatever  is  certainly 
known;  while  the  work  of  the  latter  is  of  this  world, earthly, 
and  therefore  fully  comprehended.  I  think  on  the  whole,  Mr. 
Merton, putting  the  value  of  the  work  with  the  certainty  of 
the  instruction, that  the  teacher's  position  is  the  more  desir- 
able. I  certainly  wish  that  I  had  given  my  life  to  the  work 
of  teaching.  No  work  can  be  more  divine  than  that  of  train 
ing  youthful  minds;  no  building  more  divine  than  that 
which  is  given  to  such  noble  work.  I  always  feel  more  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  when  inculcating  the  truths  of  science,  than 
when  reading  many  of  those  nice-sounding,  unsubstanti- 
ated, and  incredible  platitudes  of  the  prayerbook." 

"The  pray erbook,"  replied  Merton,  "may  contain  many 
things  hard  to  believe,  and  harder  still  to  understand;  but 
there  is  surely  a  vast  difference  between  a  place  where 
mental  instruction  is  given  and  a  church  where  God  Al- 
mighty is  worshiped  and  glorified.  The  school  is  built  by 
man;  the  church  is  built  by  God." 

"You  are  now  giving  us  a  little  more  of  unsubstantiated 
doctrine,  Mr.  Merton.  A  building  is  nothing  of  itself, — neith- 
er holy  nor  unholy.  It  is  the  work  done  within  the  building 
that  gives  character  to  it;  and,  as  I  said  before,  there  can  be 
no  higher  work  than  that  of  training  youthful  minds.  There- 
fore the  school-building  is  as  much  a  temple  built  by  God, as 
is  the  cathedral.  The  church  is  an  institution  founded  and 
continued  in  the  world  by  good-minded  men, for  the  purpose 
of  doing  good.  This  is  the  most  that  can  be  said  for  it.  It  is 
divine  so  far  as  its  work  is  divine,  and  no  farther.  I  am  sure 
that  very  much  of  church  wrork  is  anything  else  than  divine. 
I  must  reassert  what  I  have  already  said:  there  is  no  nobler 
or  diviner  work  than  that  of  the  teacher.  I  hope,  however, 
you  may  always  be  as  zealous  and  hopeful,  as  at  present. 
Nevertheless,  I  fear  that  a  few  more  years  of  active  service, 
in  church  work,  will  have  a  tendency  to  change  your  views. 


CLERICAL  SKEPTICISM.  1 83 

You  will  find  that  there  is  something  more  than  a  naughty 
world  to  deal  with;  you  will  find  some  naughty  brethren;  and 
perhaps  you  may  find  the  latter  worse  foes  than  the  former." 

"I  hope,"  said  Merton,  "that  your  fears  may  never  be 
realized  by  me;  and  that  you  may  yet  rejoice  that  you 
never  chose  teaching  as  a  profession.  Your  life  has,  in  some 
things,  been  a  disappointment;  so  your  rejoicing  may,  in 
God's  own  time,  be  unexpectedly  great." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Merton.  Before  we  part,  allow  me  to 
say  that  what  I  have  said  to  you,  I  have  said  in  confidence. 
I  would  not  speak  to  every  one  as  I  have  spoken  to  you. 
Please,  do  not  mention  my  name  in  connection  with  the 
substance  of  our  conversation.  It  would  do  no  good;  it 
might  do  much  harm." 

Having  promised  not  to  mention  his  name  in  connection 
with  the  matter  of  conversation,  Merton  bade  him  good- 
night; but  he  could  not  help  thinking,  how  greatly  disagree 
the  heart  and  countenance  of  the  average  pulpit  orator. 
Hypocrisy  is  always  and  ever  bad;  but  its  evil  is  proportion- 
ate to  the  greatness  of  the  subject  in  the  treatment  of  which 
man  professes  to  be  what  he  is  not.  It  is  difficult  to  con- 
ceal the  truth  in  any  case;  most  of  all,  in  religious  matters. 
In  the  words  of  Emerson:  "Who  is  the  better  for  the  phil- 
osopher who  conceals  his  accomplishments,  and  hides  his 
thoughts  from  the  waiting  world?  Hides  his  thoughts! 
Hide  the  sun  and  moon.  Thought  is  all  light,  and  pub- 
lishes itself  to  the  universe.  It  will  speak,  though  you 
were  dumb,  by  its  own  miraculous  organ.  It  will  flow 
out  of  your  actions,  your  manners,  and  your  face." 

Many  as  the  beauties  are  that  may,  as  the  result  of  per- 
sistent efforts,  adorn  the  soul  of  man;  no  accomplishments 
or  mental  possessions  can  ever  outrank  sincerity  and  truth- 
■  fulness. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

WORDS    AND    WORKS. 

Justitiac  partes  su?it  non  violare  homines,  vericundiae  non  offendere — 
Not  to  wrong  man,  nor  offend  modesty  are  principles  of  justice. 

(Cicero.) 

[  T  was  at  the  diocesan  convention.  All  the  clergy ,  with  the 
bishop  at  their  head,  were  met  together  to  consider  the 
matters  pertaining  to  the  welfare  of  the  church. 

After  a  good  deal  of  clerical  electioneering,  and  maneu- 
vering, which  might  well  have  excited  the  admiration  of  the 
most  astute  politician,  so  skilfully  is  the  slate  prepared,  and 
with  such  tactics  are  the  favorites  elected,  all  the  dirty  and 
rusty  machinery  being  at  the  same  time  carefully  oiled  with 
spiritual  unction,  that  as  little  friction  as  possible  may  be 
created,  the  various  committees  were  appointed,  and  the  of- 
ficers and  delegates  elected, and  things  shaped  in  accordance 
with  the  determination  of  the  ruling  majority,  with  the  ex- 
ception, perhaps,  of  those  matters  over  which  the  bishop 
himself  had  exclusive  regulation.  It  was  then  that  the  com- 
mittee of  which  Merton  was  a  member,  was  asked  to  meet, in 
the  evening,  in  a  room,  at  the  residence  of  the  bishop  of  the 
diocese.  There  was  at  the  time  a  friend  visiting  Merton,  who 
was  most  refined  in  manners,  most  gentlemanly  in  appear- 
ance,very  scholarly,  and  one  of  the  most  skilful  physicians 
and  surgeons  in  the  land.  This  gentleman  had  been  brought 
up  a  Quaker;  but  was  then  what  is  generally  called  an  un- 
believer. Merton  was  very  desirous  of  bringing  his  friend 
into  the  church;  and  thought  it  would  be  wise  to  introduce 
him  to  the  bishop.  To  this  end  he  invited  the  gentleman  to 
accompany  him,  on  the  evening  in  question,  to  the  bishop's 

residence, knowing  that  the  bishop  would  be  there,  and  that 

is4 


WORDS    AND    WORKS.  1 85 

there  would  be  a  good  opportunity  for  introduction  and  con- 
versation. The  gentleman  readily  consented;  for  he  ex- 
pected a  pleasant  time  with  the  bishop,  who  was  fat  enough 
for  a  jolly,  good-natured  prelate. 

The  members  of  the  committee  being  hard  at  work  pre- 
paring the  reports,  Merton  was  obliged  to  leave  his  friend  in 
the  care  of  the  bishop;  and  he  hoped  that  by  such  inter- 
course with  the  head  of  the  diocese,  his  friend  might  be  in- 
fluenced to  come  into  the  church. 

The  bishop  sat  in  a  large,  easy  chair,  smoking  a  cigar, 
and  having  his  feet  elevated  high  upon  the  back  of  another 
chair.  While  in  this  position,  the  bishop  was  guilty  of  con- 
duct which  is  everywhere  regarded  as  indicative  of  the  low- 
est vulgarity.  Every  one  was  astonished;  and  Merton  felt 
as  if  he  should  cry  for  the  rocks  and  hills  to  fall  on  him,  that 
he  might  be  hidden  from  the  gaze  of  his  friend,  who  ap- 
peared filled  with  righteous  indignation. 

The  work  of  the  committee  having  been  finished,  Mer- 
ton leaving  the  residence  of  the  bishop,  passed  into  the  open 
air,  in  company  with  his  friend.  No  sooner  had  they  gained 
the  street,  than  his  friend  exclaimed:  "Great  God!  Is  that 
your  bishop!  By  Jove!  he  beats  a  cow-boy.  That  beats  all 
I  have  ever  heard, or  conceived  of, in  my  life.  Solomon  sa)Ts 
there  is  nothing  new  under  the  sun,  and  he  is  supposed  to 
have  been  a  wise  man;  but  he  little  knew  of  the  many  in- 
ventions of  this  wonderful  age;  he  never  was  introduced  to 
the  head  of  this  diocese.  Your  bishop  should  have  been 
sent  to  the  World's  Fair;  even  now  he  would  make  a  fine 
addition  to  Barnum's  museum,  if  the  monkeys  didn't  expel 
him.  After  this  my  faith  in  evolution  will  be  greatly  in- 
creased; for  I  swear  no  monkey  living  in  the  days  of  Solo- 
mon, could  be  guilty  of  such  conduct,  and  yet  remain  in 
simian  society;  and  if  to-day  it  should  be,  its  fellows  would 
beat  its  brains  out  with  a  cocoanut  shell." 


1 86  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

"My  dear  doctor,"  said  Merton,"I  am  no  less  shocked 
than  you.  While  I  never  thought  the  bishop  a  very  re- 
fined or  very  polite  gentleman,  I  have  had  no  cause  for 
supposing  he  was  insulting.  It  may  be  we  should  consider 
the  act  wholly  unpremeditated." 

"Nonsense,  Mr.  Merton;  you  know  better." 

"Well,  doctor,"  said  Merton,  "let  that  pass;  and  in 
order  to  restore  your  usual  equanimity,  I  'will  tell  you 
something  ridiculous  indeed." 

"If  you  have  anything  of  that  kind,  Mr.  Merton,  let  us 
have  it.  Perhaps  I  can  laugh  myself  out  of  the  rage  I  am  in.' ' 

'  'One  morning, ' '  continued  Merton, '  'when  I  was  rector 
of  St. Peters, I,o wton, I  heard  a  knock  at  the  door.  On  open- 
ing it,  I  saw  a  clerically  dressed  gentleman  holding  a  valise 
in  his  hands.  He  appeared  a  stranger  to  me,  and  to  have 
a  wild,  almost  insane  look  about  his  eyes." 

"  'Good  morning,  sir,'  he  said.  'This  is  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Merton,  I  believe.  I  am  just  coming  from  the  mountains. 
Please  excuse  the  absence  of  my  clerical  tie.  I  really  had 
no  time  to  make  my  toilet.' 

"  'Are  you  a  minister  of  an  Episcopal  church  there?'  I 
asked. 

"  'Yes,  sir.  Don't  you  remember  me,  Mr.  Merton?  lam 
surprised.  Some  people  are  that  way.  They  don't  remem- 
ber names  nor  faces.  I  may  forget  a  name,  but  I  never  for- 
get a  face.  I  think  the  faculty  of  remembering  names  and 
faces  one  of  the  most  useful  to  man;  but,  of  course,  I  readily 
excuse  you,  as  we  were  never  very  well  acquainted.  Still,  I 
think  it  a  duty  devolving  on  the  profession,  to  study  how 
best  to  remember  names.  Don't  you  think  so,  Mr.  Merton?' 
'"Yes, sir,'  I  replied.  T  certainly  would  like  to  remember 
names  better  than  I  do;  however,  I  recognize  your  counte- 
nance.    I  have  seen  you  somewhere;  where  I  know  not.' 

"  'O,  Mr.  Merton,'  he  said,  'how  very  forgetful!     I  am 


WORDS   AND    WORKS.  187 

the  Rev.  Mr.  Insanitas  who  was  present  at  your  ordination 
to  the  priesthood.' 

"  '  Excuse  me,  Mr.  Insanitas,'  I  replied, '  I  had  forgotten 
your  appearance  ;  however,  I  remember  you  now.  Come  in, 
sir,  and  take  dinner  with  us.     It  is  almost  dinner  hour.' 

"  '  Now  I  am  in  your  study,  Mertou',  he  said,  '  perhaps 
you  would  like  to  know,  why  I  am  here.  I  will  tell  you.  A 
few  days  ago  I  left  the  little  cabin  where  I  live  by  myself, 
and  went  out  calling.  About  half-past  three  or  four  o'clock, 
I  called  on  Mrs.  So-and-so,  who,  as  usual,  received  me  very 
politely.  Almost  unco  isciously  the  time  passed  away  ;  and 
the  hour  for  tea  having  arrived,  I  was  invited  to  take  tea 
with  her.  As  Mr.  So-and-so  was  absent  in  the  mountains, 
and  would  not  return  for  some  days,  I  thought  it  would  be 
a  favor  to  the  lady,  should  I  prolong  my  visit  a  little.  So 
after  tea  we  sat  down,  and  talked  about  the  affairs  of  the 
church  until  eight  o'clock.  I  then  felt  a  chill  coming  over 
me,  and  expressed  my  fears  to  the  lady,  saying  I  wished  1 
could  lie  down  a  few  minutes.  She  invited  me  to  rest  on  the 
lounge,  and  gave  me  a  shawl  to  cover  myself  with.  I  did  so, 
and  the  rest  and  warmth  seemed  to  help  me.  While  thus 
resting,  she  told  me  it  was  nine  o'clock,  but  that  I  had  no 
need  to  hurry,  unless  I  felt  able  to  go.  I  told  her  I  would 
leave  in  a  few  minutes.  Before  I  knew  it,  I  was  fast  asleep, 
and  did  not  awake  again  before  half-past  ten,  when,  to  my 
surprise,  I  discovered  the  lady  had  left  the  house.  The  next 
day  it  was  rumored  abroad  in  the  village,  that  the  Rev.  In- 
sanitas had  gone  to  the  house  of  Mrs.  So-and-so,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  her  husband,  and  taken  tea  with  her,  and  stayed 
until  very  late  at  night  ;  that  when  she  desired  him  to  leave, 
he  didn't  take  the  hint  ;  that  finally  she  went  across  the 
road,  and  asked  a  neighbor  to  come  over,  and  put  him  out 
of  the  house  ;  and  that  the  gentleman  replied,  that  Mr.  In- 
sanitas might  go  to  the  devil  for  all  he  cared  ;  that  he  would 


188  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

have  nothing  to  do  with  such  a  crazy  lunatic.  The  next 
morning  every  kind  of  disgraceful  thing  was  said  ;  and  in 
two  or  three  days,  reports  of  tarring  and  feathering  me  were 
current  all  over  the  place.  Knowing  the  state  of  things,  I 
packed  my  valise,  and  left.  Now,  really,  if  a  woman  should 
have  come  into  my  cabin,  I  would  have  gone  through  the 
window,  if  not  through  the  door,  in  a  minute.  I  really  de- 
spise the  sex  ;  and  I  swear  I'll  do  the  work  no  more,  which 
brings  me  in  constant  intercourse"  with  them.  Preaching  I 
like  well  enough  ;  but  pastoral  work  I  do  despise,  and  I'll  do 
it  no  more.' 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that,  doctor  ?  I  told  Mr.  Insan- 
itas,  I  was  very  sorry  to  know  that  he  was  so  much  perse- 
cuted ;  that  my  experience  with  the  female  sex  was  just  op- 
posite to  his  ;  that  I  had  always  found  the  women  my  trust- 
worthy friends  ;  that  I  had  great  pleasure  in  visiting  them  ; 
and  that  the  pastoral  work  of  the  ministry  was  very  delight- 
ful to  me." 

"Well,  Merton,"  replied  the  doctor,  "I  think  Mr.  In- 
sanitas  as  you  call  him,  is  a  fit  subject  for  the  lunatic  asylum, 
as  your  bishop  is  for  the  menagerie." 

"  My  dear  doctor,  if  one  thing  more  than  another  tempts 
me  to  quit  the-work  of  the  ministry,  it  is  the  knowledge  of 
the  inferior  manhood  which  enters  it." 

"  It  is  rather  late  for  you  to  know  that,  Merton:  I  sup- 
posed it  was  a  fact  known  to  all.  It  has  been  known  to  me 
all  my  life.  Of  course  a  man  will  find  exceptions  ;  but  the 
rule  is  that  a  man  who  possesses  brains,  will  go  where  he  can 
use  it,  and  not  where,  in  the  very  nature  of  things,  it  must 
become  as  stagnant  water." 

"  But,  doctor,  I  think  the  pulpit  should  be  the  very  field 
of  labor  where  the  profoundest  and  highest  mind  could  ac- 
complish the  most  for  himself  and  others." 

"  I'll  admit,   Merton,    that  it  should  be  ;  but  I  deny  that 


WORDS    AND    WORKS.  1 89 

it  is.     In  proof  of  this,  I  think  we  have  seen  and  heard 
enough  to-night  in  the  person  of  your  bishop. ' ' 

To  this  reply  Merton  could  make  no  answer;  and  he 
feared  greatly  that  the  example  of  his  bishop  had  no  tend- 
ency to  hasten  the  time  when  his  friend  should  enter  into 
the  active  service  of  the  church. 

Some  time  after  this,  at  another  diocesan  convention, 
Merton  was  invited  to  preach  for  one  of  the  clerical  dele- 
gates. It  was  communion-day,  and  Merton  was  assisting 
in  the  celebration.  When  the  time  had  come  for  the  con- 
secration of  the  elements,  all  the  congregation  left  the 
building,  with  the  exception  of  six  or  eight.  Notwith- 
standing this  fact,  Merton  saw  that  the  clergyman  poured 
out  wine  enough  for  at  least  twenty  communicants.  In  a 
few  minutes  all  had  communed;  but  as  yet  much  of  the 
so-called  element,  representing  the  blood  of  Christ,  remain- 
ed unspent,  and  a  little  of  the  element  representing  the 
body.  Some  were  therefore  invited  forward  again,  and 
once  more  they  partook  of  the  bread;  but  no  wine  was 
offered  them.  Merton  also  received  a  second  time  of  the 
bread,  but  not  of  the  wine.  Merton  was  on  his  knees, 
reverently  worshipping  God,  when  the  celebrant,  taking 
the  chalice  in  his  hand,  gulped  down  the  wine,  as  a  drunk- 
en Dutchman  drinks  his  lager.  Merton  really  thought  that 
the  clergyman  would  choke  himself;  biit  he  was  too  well 
accustomed  to  strong  drink,  as  was  afterwards  discovered. 

A  person  might  charitably  think  that  it  was  simply  a 
mistake  with  the  celebrant,  to  consecrate  so  much  wine; 
but  not  so.  Before  consecration  he  had  counted  the  num- 
ber of  communicants  remaining;  and  besides  he  did  not 
make  the  same  mistake  in  consecrating  the  bread:  for  of 
this  but  little  remained  after  all  had  partaken  the  first  time. 
To  make  it  still  worse,  the  celebrant  had  no  sooner  entered 
the  vestry,  than  he  deliberately  took  the  vessel  in  which 


190  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

the  communion  wine  was  kept,  and  drank  more,  at  the  same 
time  offering  it  to  Merton,  who  refused.  On  the  way  to 
the  clergyman's  residence, where  Merton  had  been  invited 
to  dine,  they  passed  a  beer-saloon,  into  which  the  clergy- 
man invited  Merton  to  enter  to  drink  a  glass  of  ale.  Two 
or  three  days  before  the  celebration  mentioned  above,  while 
at  the  convention,  at  a  reception  given  at  the  bishop's  res- 
idence, this  same  clergyman,  being  alone  with  Merton, drew 
from  an  inside  pocket  a  bottle,  saying:  "Take  a  little, 
Merton.     It  is  some  fine  old  Irish  whiskey." 

Merton  thanked  the  gentleman,  but  declined  to  partake. 

When  speaking  of  these  occurrences,  in  his  own  home, 
Merton  said,  "Oh,  my  wife,  I  was  shocked  at  such  irrev- 
erence, and  disgusted  at  such  indecency.  That  such  men 
can  call  themselves  messengers  of  the  Most  High, is  enough 
to  make  the  blood  of  a  noble  man  run  cold." 

"I  sometimes  think,  Harry,"  she  replied,  "that  it  is  a 
good  thing  people  do  not  see  the  hearts  of  men  who  stand 
in  the  pulpits.  I  fear,  if  they  did,  the  cry,  'exeant  sacer- 
dotes,'  would  soon  go  forth." 

Similar  instances  of  such  clerical  deportment  and  irrev- 
erence, as  have  been  given  in  this  chapter,  might  be  in- 
definitely multiplied.  But  let  it  suffice  to  say  that  we  have 
only  given  what  we  thought  necessary,  to  place  before  the 
thoughtful  reader  another  factor  in  the  development  of  the 
soul-life  of  Henry  Merton;  another  proof  that  much  dogma 
may  be  believed,  while  little  reason  is  exhibited. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

DISHONORABLE    CONDUCT. 

Fundamental  justitiae  est  fides,  id  est  dictorum  conventorumque 
constantia  et  Veritas — 

The  fundamental  principle  of  justice  is  faith,  which  means  con- 
stancy and  truth  with   reference   to  our  words  and  engagements. 

(Cicero.) 

SPHERE  is  certainly  nothing  in  man  so  worthy  of  praise, 
or  so  much  to  be  desired,  as  a  proper  sense  of  honor,  or 
the  possession  of  what  is  rightly  called  high-mindedness. 
Honor  first  of  all  has  reference  to  the  keeping  of  one's  word. 
"  Turpe  est  fide  m  vio/are,"  is  an  old  proverb;  and  it  is  un- 
doubtedly true  that  in  the  keeping  of  his  word,  the  honor- 
able man  is  most  distinguishable  from  the  dishonorable. 
Another  characteristic  of  honor  or  high-mindedness,  is  the 
desire  to  confer  benefits  and  not  to  receive  them.  The  noble 
soul  will  suffer  much  rather  than  humiliate  himself  by  ask- 
ing favors;  while  at  the  same  time, his  great  desire  is  to  scat- 
ter blessings  as  he  goes.  In  the  conferring  of  benefits,  there 
results  a  feeling  of  pleasure;  while  in  the  receiving  of  bene- 
fits, although  good  may  sometimes  thus  be  accomplished, 
there  results,  in  the  noble  heart,  a  sense  of  shame.  The  no- 
ble nature,  therefore,  is  especially  distinguishable  from  the 
ignoble  by  the  possession  of  these  two  virtues — the  keeping 
of  his  word, and  the  conferring  of  benefits.  There  are  no  vir- 
tues so  useful  to  man  as  these  two.  In  all  our  business  re- 
lations, in  all  our  social  intercourse,  these  virtues  leave 
their  blessings;  while  their  absence  leaves  its  curse. 

Now,  as  no  position  in  life  should  be  thought  more  ele- 
vated than  that  of  the  priest,  it  follows  that  no  man  should 
possess  these  virtues  to  a  higher  degree  than  he.  But  Mor- 
ton discovered  to  his  sorrow  that  either  from  a  lack  of  these 

191 


192  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A  SOUL. 

virtues,  or  through  wickedness  in  wilfully  transgressing  the 
obligations  arising  from  their  possession,  for  the  sake  of 
gain  or  pleasure,  priests  are  frequently  found  who  give  but 
little  evidence  of  possessing  any  such  virtue  as  high-mind- 
edness  or  honor. 

It  was  a  beautiful  morning, and  Merton  was  at  his  stud- 
ies, trying  to  reconcile,  however  vainly,  dogma  and  reason, 
when  a  gentleman  came  unexpectedly  into  his  room, having 
opened  the  door  without  knocking,  or  giving  any  warning 
of  his  approach. 

"Hello!  This  is  the  Rev.  Merton, I  believe.  I  am  Dean 
Megalauchus.  I  am  on  a  fishing  excursion,  and  thought  it 
a  good  time  to  make  your  acquaintance.  Those  delivering 
the  faith  once  given  to  the  saints,  and  living  so  near  one  an- 
other, can  benefit  sometimes  by  interchanging  ideas. ' ' 

"My  own  experience,  Mr.  Megalauchus,"  replied  Mer- 
ton, "has  convinced  me  that  there  is  little  interchange  of 
ideas  between  clergymen.  Each  one  is  wedded  to  his  view, 
and  determined  never  to  be  divorced  from  it.  The  average 
clergyman  is  a  hydrozoa:  he  never  lets  go  of  what  he  at- 
taches himseli  to.  This  seeming  faithfulness  is  not,  as  one 
might  think,  the  result  of  manliness,  in  holding  on  to  the 
truth;  but  of  cowardice,  in  fearing  to  acknowledge  conscious 
error.  History  gives  us  many  names  of  great  and  noble  men 
who  have  consecrated  themselves  at  the  altar  of  Science, 
and  thereby  brought  us  the  richest  blessings;  but  few  are 
they  who  have  possessed  that  noble  manliness  which  en- 
ables one  to  abjure  some  life-long  and  cherished  belief.  I 
am  glad  to  know  you  dean,  and  hope  you  can  preach  for 
me  next  Sunday. ' ' 

"Well,  as  to  that,  Mr.  Merton,  if  I  can't  preach  for  you,  I 
can  give  your  people  a  lecture.  What  would  you  like  for  a 
subject?  You  know  the  wants  of  your  people  better  than  I 
do ;  and  should  be  better  able  therefore  to  j  udge  what  sub- 


DISHONORABLE    CONDUCT.  193 

ject  the>r  would  prefer  to  hear  me  lecture  on." 

"I  should  say, Mr.  Megalauchus,that  you  would  prefer 
to  choose  your  own  subject.  Most  men  have  some  subject 
on  which  they  feel  themselves  able  to  lecture;  and  it  must 
be  admitted  that  the  highest  proof  of  one's  incompetency,  is 
his  claim  of  being  able  to  speak  on  all  subjects.  Choose  that, 
sir,  on  which  you  are  best  prepared. ' ' 

"You  know,  Mr.  Merton,  I've  been  all  around  the  world. 
Just  say  what  you  would  like  me  to  speak  on.  I  would  as 
soon  speak  on  one  subject  as  another." 

"Very  strange, Mr.  Megalauchus,"said  Merton.  "The 
sun  goes  all  around  the  world  every  twenty-four  hours,  yet 
I  would  never  think  of  inviting  it  to  deliver  a  lecture.  I  do 
not  think  mere  going  around  the  world,  can  prepare  any 
man  to  deliver  a  lecture  worthy  to  be  heard.  Among  those 
who  have  been  around  the  world  most  frequently,  are  found 
many  most  coarse,  and  most  void  of  intellectual  ability.  I 
hardly  think  that  you  would  have  approved  my  act,  should 
I  have  invited  the  martyred  Cook  to  preach  for  me  on  St. 
Paul's  Epistles  to  the  Romans." 

"Well,  it  is  not  likely  we  can  agree  on  all  things,  Mr. 
Merton,  and,  may  be,  we  must  disagree  on  this.  Everybody 
has  his  own  ideas  about  such  things,  and  it  is  useless  to  try 
to  change  them.  All  I  have  to  say  is,  name  your  subject, 
and  let  the  rest  go  to  me.  It  will  be  time  enough  to  find 
fault,  after  I  shall  have  failed  to  give  you  satisfaction." 

"Suppose,  then,  Mr.  Megalauchus,  that  you  deliver  a 
lecture  on  science  and  religion.  It  is  a  subject  in  which  I 
myself  am  very  much  interested,  and  on  which  I  should  be 
glad  to  receive  any  information  that  you  may  possess." 

"Splendid,  Mr  Merton!  You  have  hit  the  nail  on  the 
head.  Nothing  could  be  more  suitable  to  me,  and  the  times 
are  ripe  for  it.  You  mean  for  me  to  speak  on  the  so-called 
disagreements  between  science  and  religion,  do  you  not?" 


194  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A    SOUI,. 

"Yes,  sir.  Infidelity  is  rampant  in  this  city.  Most  of 
the  influential  men  are  unbelievers  in  the  dogmas  of  Chris- 
tianity. Few  of  them  go  to  church  at  all,  and  those  who 
go,  go  more  for  the  sake  of  social  relations  than  for  any  be- 
lief in  the  four  Evangelists.  If  you  can  do  anything  toward 
healing  this  sore,  I  am  sure  you  will  assist  greatly  in  spread- 
ing the  faith  of  which  you  have  just  now  spoken. " 

"All  right,  Mr.  Merton.  You  will  see  that  the  lecture 
is  well  advertised.  If  there  is  one  thing  I  hate  in  this 
world,  it  is  speaking  to  a  half-empty  house.  I  would  like 
for  you  to  get  it  in  the  papers  of  the  city,  as  well  as  speak 
to  your  congregation  about  it.  On  what  day  of  the  week 
shall  I  deliver  the  lecture? ' ' 

"Thursday  evening  would  be  a  good  time,  Mr.  Meg- 
alauchus.     I  believe  no  other  evening  is  as  good." 

"All  right,  all  right.  I'll  be  on  hand  Thursday  even- 
ing; and  I  promise  you  a  good  time.  I  think  I  can  show 
your  people  that  the  word  of  God  remains  true,  though 
every  man  be  a  liar.     Remember  Thursday  evening." 

Agreeable  to  their  understanding,  Merton  had  an  item 
inserted  in  the  newspapers,  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Megalauchus, 
of  Churchton,  would  deliver  a  lecture  at  the  Episcopal 
church,  the  following  Thursday  evening,  on  Science  and 
Religion.     He  also  spoke  of  the  matter  in  his  visits. 

It  was  about  six  o'clock  on  Thursday  evening.  All 
preparations  had  been  made,  and  Merton  was  momentarily 
expecting  the  Rev.  Mr.  Megalauchus.  An  hour  passed, 
and  yet  the  gentleman  had  not  come.  Merton  then  began 
to  feel  apprehensive  lest  Mr.  Megalauchus  should  prove  to 
be  like  some  of  the  many  other  clergymen  he  had  known, 
who  thought  so  lightly  of  their  word.  When  the  hour  had 
arrived  for  Merton  to  go  to  the  church,  he  went,  taking  with 
him  one  of  his  old  lectures,  determined  to  deliver  it,  should 
Mr.  Megalauchus  fail  to  be  on  hand.    The  lecture  was  en- 


DISHONORABLE   CONDUCT.  1 95 

titled,  "The  Earth  Past  and  Future."  The  Rev.  gentle- 
man did  not  make  his  appearance;  and  Merton  entertained 
the  audience  as  best  he  could  with  his  own  lecture.  He 
felt,  however,  greatly  ashamed  that  the  people  of  the  city 
should  be  thus  treated  by  a  clergyman  of  the  church. 

In  a  day  or  two  Merton  addressed  Mr.  Megalauchus  a 
letter  asking  an  explanation  of  his  conduct.  It  was  answered 
in  due  time.  "I  was  so  busy , ' '  he  said, '  'with  the  dear  little 
fishes  that  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  forsake  them.  They 
came  to  me  in  such  numbers  that  I  might  have  fed  the  mul- 
titude in  the  wilderness.  So  attentive  to  me  were  they ,  in  all 
my  wants,  that  I  felt  it  would  be  disrespectful  in  me  to  leave 
them.  Under  such  circumstances  I  am  sure  any  one  would 
excuse  me.  Give  my  excuse  to  the  people,  and  tell  them 
I  will  come  again  some  time,  and  redeem  my  promise. ' ' 

Merton  replied:  "Although  too  much  pride  is  an  evil, 
yet  I  believe  every  one  should  think  more  of  himself  than 
of  'the  little  fishes.'  I  do  not  think  it  an  honor  to  you,  sir, 
that  you  think  more  of  fishing  than  of  keeping  your  word 
inviolate.  In  the  future,  believe  me,  I  will  endeavor  not 
to  disappoint  my  people  with  the  promise  of  a  man  able  to 
lecture  on  anything,  and  who  has  been  all  around  the 
world  simply  to  learn  that  his  word  is  of  less  value  than  a 
few  little  fishes." 

To  this  letter  Merton  received  no  reply ;  nor  did  he  ever 
see  Mr.  Megalauchus  again;  gnd  certainly  he  had  no  de- 
sire to. 

At  another  time,  Merton  was  visited  by  a  minister  who 
said  he  was  in  great  need  of  money,  and  begged  Merton 
to  lend  him  ten  dollars  for  two  or  three  days.  Merton  had 
but  little  money;  and  the  little  he  had,  he  more  than 
needed  for  home  use.  But  so  pitiable  were  the  minister's 
pleadings,  especially  to  a  nature  so  ill  adapted  to  with- 
standing the  pleadings  of  misery  as  Merton' s  was,  that 


196  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A   SOUL. 

even  against  the  advice  of  his  wife,  Merton  loaned  him  the 
money,  on  his  promise  to  return  it  within  five  days. 
"Here  sir",  said  Merton,  "are  the  ten  dollars.  lean  ill 
afford  to  part  with  the  money  at  this  time;  but  on  your 
promise  to  return  it  within  five  days,  I   let  you  have  it." 

"As  sure  as  there  is  a  God  in  heaven,  Mr.  Merton," 
he  said,  "I  will  return  you  the  money  by  that  time." 

"I  will  give  you  ten  days,  sir,"  replied  Merton,  "and, 
mind  you,  if  the  money  is  not  in  my  hands  by  that  time, 
I  will  remember  you  as  a  base  man." 

"I  am  quite  willing  for  you  to  do  so,  Mr.  Merton;" 
he  said;  "but  there  will  be  no  danger  about  your  money. 
The  minister  who  would  receive  such  kindness  from 
another,  and  fail  to  return  it,  is  not  worthy  to  stand  in 
the  pulpit.     Believe  me,  you  have  no  cause  to  fear." 

From  that  day  Merton  never  saw  the  minister,  nor  did 
he  ever  receive  the  money.  Some  persons  might  chari- 
tably imagine  that  his  mind  was  afterwards  too  much  en- 
grossed with  the  pursuits  after  holiness,  and  with  the 
preaching  of  the  faith  once  given  to  the  saints,  to  remem- 
ber such  little  trifles;  but  we  hold  that  charity  is  greatly 
misused  when  given  to  license  dishonorable  conduct. 
There  is  no  place  for  charity  here. 

On  a  beautiful  Sunday  morning,  Merton  invited  Mr. 
Robins  to  preach  for  him,  having  learned  that  he  greatly 
desired  to  do  so.  The  gentleman  preached  an  old- 
fashioned  sermon:  there  is  no  salvation  outside  the  church; 
life  only  through  the  blood  of  Christ;  faith  and  not  works 
brings  salvation;  the  Episcopal  minister  is  the  only  author- 
itative minister  of  Christ;  and  the  Scriptures,  as  a  whole 
and  in  every  part,  are  divinely  inspired  and  infallible  writ- 
ings. His  sermon  was  a  fair  enlargement  of  what  is  given 
us  by  Schiller,  in  his  great  play  of  Mary  Stuart,  as  the 
words  of  that  famous  but  ill-fated  woman: 


DISHONORABLE    CONDUCT.  I 97 

Denn  der  allein  ist  es  welcher  selig  macht — 
For  that  alone  is  the  faith  which  giyes  salvation 

Much  of  the  discourse  was  very  offensive  to  Merton, 
who  thought  the  action  of  Mr.  Robins  very  discourteous 
at  least,  since  he,  being  a  guest,  should  have  respected  the 
well-known  feelings  of  Merton. 

As  soon  as  the  services  were  over,  and  Mr.  Robins  and 
Merton  had  come  into  the  vestry,  Merton  made  the  state- 
ment that  the  sermon  had  greatly  offended  him;  and  asked 
why  he  had  chosen  such  an  offensive  subject  for  his  pulpit. 
Mr.  Robins  thereupon  acknowledged  his  own  doubt  about 
the  truth  of  the  statements  he  had  made,  by  admitting  he 
could  not  .say  in  his  heart  he  believed  them.  However,  he 
had  made  them,  he  said,  from  the  force  of  custom  and  habit, 
and  because  they  were  in  general  believed  by  church  peo- 
ple. He  was  sorry, he  said,  that  he  had  offended  Merton, and 
wished  he  had  preached  on  some  less  debatable  subject.  On 
questioning  him,  Merton  discovered  that  he  knew  scarcely 
anything  of  modern  thought, or  of  the  more  prominent  mod- 
ern authors.  So  radically  lacking  was  he  in  the  informa- 
tion of  the  present  day, that  he  confessed  he  was  ashamed, 
and  said:  "I  wish  Dr.  Merton,  that  I  could  be  near  you,  to 
make  myself  better  acquainted  with  the  results  of  modern 
scholarship;  for  even  the  little  education  I  had, I  have  never 
improved,  being  not  naturally  given  to  study.  I  am  con- 
scious that  there  is  a  great  conflict  in  the  world  between 
what  is  called  revealed  religion  and  advanced  thought;  but 
I  have  had  scarcely  any  scientific  education, — just  enough 
to  trouble  me  with  doubts  and  fears,  not  enough  to  point  me 
out  the  path  clearly  one  way  or  the  other.  So  in  my  doubts 
I  go  on  keeping  on  the  safe  side.  If  I  didn't  do  this, nothing 
could  result  but  trouble  with  my  bishop,  and  ruin  to  my- 
self and  family." 

Now  this  man  who  could  thus  admit  his  doubts,  was  but 


198  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

a  short  time  afterward  made  a  bishop  of  the  church.  On  this 
occasion  he  took  good  care  to  hide  whatever  doubts  or  fears 
his  bosom  possessed;  yes,  indeed,  and  the  reason  may  be 
readily  inferred:  the  power,  and  prestige,  and  salary  of  a 
bishop,  were  more  than  weighty  enough  to  balance  any  lit- 
t'.e  conscientious  scruples  of  belief  he  had  hidden  in  his 
bosom. 

In  the  parish  of  Woodville,  where  Merton  was  rector, 
there  died  an  old  negress.  Having  been  baptized  by  a  neigh- 
boring clergyman,  the  poor  woman,  at  her  death,  requested 
Merton  to  permit  this  minister  to  make  a  few  remarks  at  her 
funeral.  The  minister  was  very  aged, being  somewhat  more 
than  four-score  years  old;  and  the  people  of  the  parish  gen- 
erally considered  it  a  kind  of  amusement  to  hear  him  preach, 
so  incoherently  and  irrelevantly  did  he  speak.  But  Merton 
determiuined  that  the  wishes  of  the  poor  colored  woman 
should  be  respected;  and  therefore  invited  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Gordon  to  speak  at  the  funeral,  at  the  same  time  informing 
him  that  he  would  see  to  the  liquidation  of  whatever  ex- 
penses might  be  incurred  by  his  coming.  The  expense  of 
coming,  however,  would  be  very  light,  as  his  parish  was 
very  near  to  Merton' s,  and  free  entertainment  would  be 
given  him.  Mr.  Gordon  delivered  his  remarks  in  the  room 
beside  the  coffin,  in  the  presence  of  a  great  many  negroes. 
Being  a  very  poor  preacher,  it  was  natural  that  but  few 
whites  would  wish  to  hear  him.  After  the  preliminary  ser- 
vices, they  departed  for  the  cemetery.  On  their  way  to  the 
burial-ground  Mr.  Gordon  was  merry  and  jocose,  and  even 
given  to  levity.  On  arrival  at  the  cemetery, he  asked  if  Mer- 
ton would  permit  him  to  bury  the  dead.  Merton  replied: 
"No;  sir;  among  my  own  people  I  always  bury  the  dead. 
While  they  are  living,  I  do  my  best  for  them;  when  they 
are  dead,  I  perform  the  last  offices." 

The  rites  were  finished,  and  they  had  moved  back  a 


DISHONORABLE    CONDUCT  I 99 

short  distance  from  the  grave,  when  Mr.  Gordon  was  handed 
a  folded  bill.  Merton  saw  a  wave  of  pleasure  pass  over  Mr. 
Gordon's  countenance  as  he  took  the  money,  and  placed 
it  in  his  pocket.  They  proceeded  towards  the  gate,  where 
the  carriage  awaited  them;  but  before  they  reached  it,  Mr. 
Gordon  was  forced  to  put  his  hands  into  his  pocket,  and 
draw  forth  the  note,  that  he  might  know  its  worth.  As  he 
drew  it  forth,  and  saw  it  was  a  ten-dollar  bill,  he  grunted 
out,  "Ha!  ha!  bless  the  Lord!  very  good,  very  good!"  and 
without  further  comment,  put  the  bill  back  into  his  pocket. 
Now,  every  one  should  know  that  the  money  belonged  to 
Merton,  as  well  because  he  was  the  rector  of  the  parish,  as 
because  he  had  performed  most  of  the  labor.  It  was  Mr. 
Gordon's  duty  to  give  the  money  to  Merton,  and  Merton's 
to  see  that  Mr.  Gordon  was  paid  for  such  assistance  as  he  had 
rendered.  As  Mr.  Gordon  was  an  old  man,  and  almost 
eaten  up  with  the  love  of  money,  Merton  had  fully  made  up 
his  mind  to  present  him  with  the  bill,  had  Mr.  Gordon 
handed  it  over  to  him;  but  as  he  did  not,  from  that  time 
Merton  lost  all  respect  for  him.  As  this  minister  was  with- 
out a  sense  of  what  was  becoming,  so  was  he  selfish  to  the 
very  heart.  All  the  way  to  the  cemetery , he  talked  of  every- 
thing except  of  death  or  the  grave;  and  all  the  way  to  the 
rectory, of  everything  except  of  handing  Merton  the  money, 
or  any  portion  of  it.  Merton  never  spoke  of  this  dishonor- 
able act ;  but  he  could  never  again  invite  so  base  a  man  into 
his  parish. 

It  was  the  like  of  this  action  that  made  Merton  frequent- 
ly resolve, sometime  afterwards, that  when  he  died, he  would 
be  buried  without  priestly  rites.  There  are,  however,  some 
good  and  true  men  in  the  ministry.  Such  are  a  comfort  to 
the  dying,  and  render  desirable  services  at  the  burial  of  the 
dead.  Nevertheless,  the  hypocrisy  that  Merton  had  wit- 
nessed at  so  many  funerals,  made  the  thought  very  painful 


200  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUI,. 

to  him,  that  such  might  be  acted  over  the  burial  of  his  own 
remains. 

At  another  time  the  bishop  of  the  diocese  visited  Mer- 
ton's  parish,  to  administer  the  rite  of  confirmation.  By 
chance  their  conversation  turned  on  the  question  of  denomi- 
national ministerial  authority.     Said  the  bishop: 

"It  can  not  be  doubted  that  you  are  the  only  authorized 
minister  in  this  city.  It  is  possible  that  you  may  consider 
the  different  denominational  ministers  here  as  your  lieuten- 
ants, or  assistants,  or  as  laymen;  but  you  can  not  think  of 
them  as  authorized  ministers  of  Christ,  and  remain  loyal 
to  the  church.  Even  the  Roman  Catholic  priest  is  here 
without  any  right  or  authority;  since  their  very  first  coming 
into  this  country  was  an  intrusion,  and  an  offence  to  the 
church  of  Christ.  The  Episcopal  Church  was  the  first 
Catholic  Church  in  this  country ;  and  therefore  she  is  the  only 
one  that  to-day  is  here  by  divine  right.  You  must  not 
surrender  your  birthright  for  a  mess  of  pottage." 

And  yet  this  very  bishop,  on  the  next  day,  in  his  ser- 
mon before  the  congregation, among  which  there  were  many 
of  the  ministers  of  the  city,  lauded  the  achievements  of  the 
various  denominations;  and  called  their  ministers,  "dear 
brethren, ' '  and  the  chosen  vessels  of  Christ  to  bear  his  gos- 
pel to  the  ends  of  the  world.  And  all  this  was  done  for  the 
purpose  of  winning  the  hearts  of  the  congregation,  and  get- 
ting from  them  a  large  offertory.  Merton  was  greatly  of- 
fended at  such  dishonorable  conduct;  at  the  man  who  behind 
the  backs  of  those  ministers,  could  deny  their  orders,  or 
their  ministerial  authority,  and  yet  before  their  faces,  for 
the  sake  of  base  gain,  call  them  his  brethren,  and  chosen 
ministers  of  Christ. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Ruckles,  who  had  invited  Merton  to  call 
on  him,  was  the  minister  of  one  of  the  wealthiest  congre- 
gations in  the  metropolis.  During  their  conversation  he  said: 


DISHONORABLE    CONDUCT.  201 

"Your  faith,  Mr.  Merton,  is  my  faith;  but  I  dare  not  speak 
just  as  I  believe.  Should  I  do  so,  it  would  only  increase 
the  existing  trouble  of  my  people,  who  are  already  suf- 
ficiently burdened  with  their  own  religious  doubts  and 
fears. ' ' 

On  another  occasion,  Merton  was  invited  to  dine  with 
the  Rev.  Mr.  Frink,  who  had  a  very  conspicuous  position  in 
the  same  city  to  which  we  have  just  made  reference.  While 
at  dinner  Mrs.  Frink  took  an  active  part  in  the  conversation; 
and  Merton  was  not  a  little  surprised  at  the  skeptical  nature 
of  her  views. 

"  Merton,"  said  the  Rev.  Mr.  Frink,  "I  want  you  to 
know  that  my  wife  is  a  first-class  infidel." 

"  Who  could  be  other,"  she  replied,  "  after  becoming 
acquainted  with  the  history  of  the  church,  and  the  real 
nature  of  things.   Is  it  not  all  for  money,  anyhow?" 

During  Merton' s  visit  Mr.  Frink  clearly  stated  his  dis- 
belief in  the  deity  of  Christ,  in  a  fixed  state  after  death,  in 
the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  and  in  the  resurrection  of 
the  dead;  although  he  was  supposed  to  be  an  orthodox 
preacher,  and  received  his  salar3^  as  such.  Alas,  that  such 
deception  could  be  found  in  the  hearts  of  ministers!  Truly, 
as  Goethe  says: 

Nach  Golde  dracngt, 

Am  Golde  haengt 

Dock  A  lies. — {Fa  us  I,  2802). 

We  will  not  multiply  the  instances  of  dishonorable  con- 
duct that  Merton  witnessed  in  his  brethren;  we  have  only 
given  such  as  we  thought  would  suffice  to  show  another 
phase  in  the  development  of  the  new  heart  and  mind  which, 
in  due  time,  were  created  in  the  being  of  Henry  Merton, 
— a  heart  and  mind  consonant  with  reason,  however  much 
at  variance  with  dogma. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
the;  dogma  of  creation. 

For  in  six  days-the  Lord  made   heaven  and   earth,  the  sea  and 
all  that  in  them  is.     (Ex.  xx.  u). 

JVi.il  autem    nee  mains  nee  melius  mundo,  necesse  est  ergo  cum  de- 
orum  consilio  ct  providentia  administrari. 

But  since  nothing  is  greater  nor  better  than  the  world,  it  fol- 
lows that  it  is  governed  by  the  counsel  and  providence  of  God. 

(Cicero:  De  Nat.  Deo.  u.  j/.) 

XT OTWITHSTANDING  the  painful  life  of  Merton, 
owing  to  the  mental  tempests  through  which  his  soul 
was  passing,  his  relations  with  his  people  and  the  citizens 
of  the  town  were  most  pleasant.  By  all  he  was  regarded  as 
a  man  of  purity  of  life,  and  of  the  highest  educational  at- 
tainments. It  was  because  of  his  recognized  scholarship 
that  he  was  asked  to  prepare  and  deliver  the  following  lec- 
ture based  on  Exodus  xx.  1 1 :  "For  in  six  days  the  Eord 
made  heaven  and  earth,  the  sea,  and  all  that  in  them  is." 
The  literal  sense  of  these  words  can  not  be  misunder- 
stood ;  nor  would  there  seem  any  more  reason  for  question- 
ing the  meaning  of  this  sentence  than  of  that  in  which  it  is 
asserted  that  a  carpenter  built  a  house  in  three  weeks.  But 
within  the  last  few  years, comparatively  speaking,  it  has  be- 
come the  custom,  with  the  more  scholarly  theologians  and 
ministers,  to  insist, under  the  pressure  of  scientific  facts, that 
the  word  'days,'  in  this  sentence,  does  not  mean  days  in  re- 
ality, but  periods  of  indefinite  duration.  Now,  should  a 
common  architect,  after  having  made  the  assertion,  that  a 
certain  piece  of  work  had  been  done  in  a  certain  number  of 
days,  declare,  after  his  assertion  had  been  found  to  be  false, 
that  he  meant  any  certain  period  of  time  that  might  have 
been  found  requisite  for  the  completion  of  the  work,  and  not 


THE   DOGMA    OF   CREATION.  203 

days  in  reality,  honest  men  would  regard  him  as  a  humbug 
rather  than  as  a  competent  architect.  But  if  an  architect 
should  be  refused  such  an  easy  escape  from  the  results  of 
his  own  gross  ignorance,  surely  God  could  not,  on  any  rea- 
sonable ground,  ask  humanity  to  credit  Him  with  meaning 
any  time  required  to  suit  the  occasion,  after  having  dis- 
tinctly stated,  that  the  required  time  was  six  days.  In- 
deed, whatever  leniency  one  might  be  supposed  to  show 
an  architect,  who  after  all  his  supposed  skill,  is  but  fallible 
man,  and  therefore  subject  by  nature  to  mistake  in  thought 
and  expression,  there  could  be  no  ground  whatever  for  allow- 
ing God  any  such  excuse,  who  can  not  plead  imperfection 
in  thought,  nor  fallibility  in  judgment;  and  who  must  know 
better  than  to  use,  in  his  statements,  any  words  that  would 
necessarily  lead  men  to  make  false  conclusions.  To  the  fair- 
minded  man,  it  seems  like  begging  the  question,  to  assume 
that  God  means  any  indefinite  periods  of  time,  when  He 
plainly  says  six  days;  and  such  an  assumption  does  appear, 
on  every  ground  of  reason,  to  be  most  unwarrantable. 

This  daring  spirit  that  reads  into  certain  words  of  the 
Bible  a  meaning  totally  different  from  their  literal  import,  is 
of  very  modern  birth;  and  in  a  person  who  confessedly  ad- 
mits the  divine  origin  of  such  words,  it  is  a  spirit  most  un- 
worthy,irreverent, andcondemnable.  It  is  most  dishonorable 
to  charge  God  with  the  use  of  words  that  He  did  not  intend 
using,  that  convey  a  false  meaning,  or  that  are  necessarily 
subject  to  false  construction,  or  to  ambiguity.  God  can  not 
be  deceived  in  the  understanding  of  his  own  works,  nor  de- 
sire to  deceive  his  own  creatures  in  investigating  them;  nor 
can  He  ever  fail  to  choose  the  right  word  needed  to  convey 
the  information  He  intends  to  impart.  We  therefore  insist 
on  the  grounds  of  the  majesty,  greatness,  and  goodness  of 
God, that  if  the  world  was  not  created  in  six  days,  the  words 
at  the  head  of  our  lecture  can  not  have  come  from  God,  can 


204  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUI,. 

not  have  had  a  divine  origin;  and  since  no  passage  can  be 
found  in  the  whole  Bible  whose  origin  has  been  more  uni- 
versally acknowledged  to  be  divine,  it  follows  that  the 
disproof  of  the  literal  truth  of  these  words  must  cast  great 
discredit  on  the  divine  origin  of  the  Bible  as  a  whole. 

We  notice  that  the  words  of  the  Bible  are,  'heaven  and 
earth.'  Commenting  on  the  meaning  of  these  words, 
Bishop  Kidder  says,  'they  are  used  to  express  what  -is 
otherwise  called  the  world  or  universe;'  and  Bishop  Pear- 
son tells  us  that  the  Hebrews  used  them  to  denote  'the  grand 
extremities  within  which  all  things  are  contained.'  In 
simple  English,  therefore,  the  biblical  statement  is  that 
God  created  the  universe  in  six  days. 

The  time  that  has  elapsed  since  the  work  of  creation 
was  completed,  or  since  God  entered  upon  his  Sabbath, 
was,  until  very  lately,  believed  by  theologians  to  be  quite 
definitely  known.  In  the  generally  received  version  of 
the  Bible,  Archbishop  Ussher's  chronology  is  used.  This 
gives  us  4004  years  B-  C.  for  the  time  since  the  work  of 
creation  was  completed.  Hales  considers  the  event  oc- 
curred 541 1  years  B.  C. ;  Jackson,  5426  years  B.  C;  Pet- 
avius,  3983  years  B.  C. ;  and  Bunsen  gives  the  time  20000 
years  B.  C,  as  about  the  date  of  Adam's  creation.  This 
last  date  is  declared  by  Reginald  Stuart  Poole  to  be  one 
'not  only  independent  of,  but  repugnant  to  the  Bible.' 
Mr.  Poole  gives  us.  as  the  date  of  Adam's  creation,  some 
time  B    C.  between  5361  and  5421. 

In  the  discussion  of  these  words  of  Scripture,  we  shall 
in  general  confine  ourselves  to  established  or  universally 
recognized  geological  and  astronomical  facts. 

Nothing  can  be  more  certain  than  this,  that  all  scien- 
tists regard  the  universe  (we  do  not  mean  the  matter  of 
which  the  universe  is  composed)  as  having  had  a  begin- 
ning, as  having  developed  under  law  and  order,  and  as 


THE    DOGMA    OF   CREATION.  205 

being  subject  to  decay  and  death.  Between  science  and 
miraculous  occurrences  there  is  an  unending  strife:  the  ad- 
mission of  miracle  is  the  exclusion  of  science.  Science, 
therefore,  has  no  place  for  miracle  in  its  consideration;  and 
the  man  who  teaches  miracle,  or  uses  it,  or  depends  on  it, 
in  the  explanation  of  any  phenomenon  does  by  that  very 
act  itself  exclude  himself  from  the  company  of  scientists, 
and  conclusively  show  that  he  has  not  had  a  scientific  edu- 
cation worthy  of  the  name.  Whatever  object  of  scientific 
thought  one  may  proceed  to  investigate  to-day,  there  he 
will  find  that  evolution,  under  some  form  or  other,  is  uni- 
versally received  as  the  great  law  by  which  such  object  has 
been  developed  from  the  starting-point  of  its  existence. 

When  we  speak  of  the  earth,  we  know  with  absolute 
certainty  that  it  is  a  planet  related  to  the  other  planets  of 
the  solar  system  as  brother  to  brother;  and  that  the  solar 
system  itself  is  a  stellar  system  similarly  related  to  the 
other  stellar  systems  that  form  our  universe — the  universe 
which  the  Bible  says  God  created  in  six  days.  Now,  al- 
though no  competent  scientist  would  be  so  rash  as  to  set  a 
limit  before  which  none  of  the  systems  of  this  universe  could 
have  existed;  any  and  all  competent  scientists  are  ready  to 
stake  all  their  reputation  by  asserting,  without  the  least 
hesitation,  that  these  stellar  systems  had  their  origin  under 
ordinary  development,  and  in  the  abyssmal  depths  of  past 
time.  Says  Newcomb,  one  of  the  foremost  living  astrono- 
mers: 'The  widest  induction  of  modern  science  agrees  with 
the  speculations  of  thinking  minds  in  past  ages,  in  present- 
ing the  creation  of  the  material  universe  as  a  process  rather 
than  an  act.  This  process  began  when  the  present  material 
universe  was  a  mass  of  fiery  vapor,  filling  the  stellar  spaces; 
it  is  still  going  on  in  its  inevitable  course,  and  it  will  end 
when  sun  and  stars  are  reduced  to  cold  masses  of  dead 
matter.     The  nebular  hypothesis  is  indicated  by  the  gen- 


206  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

eral  tendency  of  the  laws  of  nature.  It  has  not  been 
proved  to  be  inconsistent  with  any  fact;  and  it  is  almost 
a  necessary  consequence  of  the  only  theory  by  which  we 
can  account  for  the  origin  and  conservation  of  the  sun's 
heat.' 

We  have  said  that  the  solar  system  is  but  one  of  a 
family  of  stellar  systems.  Now,  as  children  can  not  be  with- 
out parents,  so  these  various  stellar  systems  that  look  out 
upon  us  from  the  awful  depths  of  unfathomable  space,  could 
not  be  without  once  having  had  a  parent  body  from  which 
they  originated.  But  to  speak  of  the  time  that  has  elapsed 
since  that  parent  body  existed,  would  be  but  to  use  numbers 
so  great  as  to  be  beyond  all  our  powers  of  comprehension,  and 
therefore  a  waste  of  time.  We  will  therefore  not  speak  of 
any  time  limit  before  which  the  parent  body  or  bodies  of 
this  our  universe  must  have  existed;  but  will  confine  our- 
selves to  the  attempt  at  arriving  at  something  like  a  definite 
age  for  its  offspring, — for  instance  our  own  sun,  a  body 
which  the  Bible  says  God  created  on  the  fourth  day 

This  central  body  of  our  system  is  a  most  wonderful 
orb.  Helmholtz  tells  us  that  our  forefathers  were  right  in 
regarding  the  sun  as  the  giver  of  all  life,  as  the  ultimate 
source  of  almost  all  that  has  happened  on  the  earth.  Says 
Tyndall:  'He  rears  the  whole  vegetable  world  and  through 
it  the  animal;  the  lilies  of  the  field  are  his  workmanship; 
the  verdure  of  the  meadows,  and  the  cattle  upon  a  thousand 
hills.  He  forms  the  muscles,  he  urges  the  blood,  he  builds 
the  brain.  His  fleetness  is  the  lion's  foot;  he  springs  in  the 
panther,  he  soars  in  the  eagle,  he  glides  in  the  snake.  He 
builds  the  forest  and  hews  it  down,  the  power  which  raised 
the  tree  and  wields  the  axe  being  one  and  the  same.  The 
sun  digs  the  ore  from  our  mine,  he  rolls  the  iron,  he  rivets 
the  plates,  he  boils  the  water,  he  draws  the  train.  He  not 
not  only  grows  the  cotton,  but  he  spins  the  fibres,  and 


THE   DOGMA    OF    CREATION.  207 

weaves  the  web.  There  is  not  a  hammer  raised,  a  wheel 
turned, or  a  shuttle  thrown, that  is  not  raised  and  turned  and 
thrown  by  the  sun. '  And  our  own  popular  scientific  teacher, 
Edward  L.  Youmans,  says.  'In  the  fall  of  the  avalanche, 
the  roar  of  the  cataract,  and  the  flow  of  the  river;  in  the 
crash  of  the  thunder,  the  glare  of  the  lightning,  and  the 
sweep  of  the  tornado;  in  the  blaze  of  conflagration  and  the 
shock  of  battle;  in  the  beauty  of  flowers,  of  the  rainbow, 
and  the  ever-shifting  clouds;  in  days  and  seasons;  in  the 
silent  growth  of  plants,  and  the  elastic  spring  of  animals; 
in  the  sail-impelled  or  steam-driven  ship,  and  the  flying 
train;  in  the  heavy  respiration  of  the  laboring  engine,  and 
the  rapid  click  of  the  telegraph; — in  all  the  myriad  manifes- 
tations of  earthly  power,  we  behold  the  transmuted  strength 
of  the  all-energizing  sun.' 

It  is  not  at  all  doubted  by  astronomers  that  each  and 
all  of  the  countless  members  of  our  universe  have  had  their 
origin  from  one  common  fiery  mist  or  nebulous  ball.  This 
is  called  the  nebular  hypothesis.  In  its  modern  form  the 
hypothesis  is  generally  credited  toHerschel;  but  since  his 
days  it  has  been  variously  modified  by  different  astrono- 
mers, although  its  main  principle  has  not  in  any  respect 
been  altered. 

According  to  astronomer  Norton  the  great  disruption 
of  the  nebulous  mass  by  which  the  primary  systems  of  the 
heavens  were  generated,  may  have  occurred  in  any  one 
of  four  possible  modes: 

By  a  simultaneous  disruption  of  the  whole  of  the 
nebulous  mass; 

By  a  simultaneous  disruption  of  the  nebulous  body 
along  a  limited  number  of  meridians; 

By  an  irregular  disruption; 

By  a  disruption  beginning  at  the  equator,  and  ex- 
tending gradually  towards  the  poles. 


208  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

Mr.  Norton  regards  the  last  form  of  disruption  as  a 
deviation  from  the  normal  type,  but  at  the  same  time  as 
that  by  which  the  stellar  systems  were  most  likely  origi- 
nated. The  irresolvable  nebulae  he  regards  as  vast  nebu- 
lous masses  that  became  detached  from  the  polar  regions, and 
from  which  'clusters  have  been  derived  that  are  now  at  an 
earlier  stage  of  development,  and  at  a  greater  distance  than 
the  telescopic  stars  and  clusters.'  Annular  nebulae  he 
thinks  may  have  resulted  from  the  polar  matter  being  most- 
ly drawn  to  surrounding  points  of  condensation,  or  not 
having  yet  condensed  into  true  stars,  or  into  stars  com- 
paratively minute.  Planetary  nebulae  he  refers  to  this 
same  kind  of  development. 

"  If  we  assume,'  says  Mr.  Norton,  'all  systems  of  stars 
to  have  been  derived  by  separation  from  rotating  nebulous 
bodies  of  vast  extent  according  to  one  or  the  other  of  a 
certain  small  number  of  types  of  evolution,  the  forms  and 
internal  conditions  that  would  be  inevitably  passed  through, 
in  the  progress  of  ages,  would  be  the  counterpart  of  the 
various  forms  and  apparent  structural  conditions  of  the 
clusters  and  nebulae  actually  observed. ' 

In  speaking  of  the  origin  of  the  systems  of  the  heav- 
ens, Young  says  that  any  one  who  considers  the  way  in 
which  other  perfect  works  of  Nature  usually  come  to  their 
perfection,  must  conclude  that  it  is  far  more  likely  the  sys- 
tems grew  than  that  they  were  built  This  eminent  author 
thinks  it  not  probable  that  the  original  nebulous  mass  had 
nearly  as  high  temperature  as  that  of  the  sun  at  present. 
He  regards  it  likely  that  the  original  nebula  was  in  the 
form  of  dust  rather  than  fire-mist,  that  it  consisted  of  fine 
particles  of  solid  or  liquid  matter,  each  particle  enveloped 
in  a  mantle  of  permanent  gas.  Still  he  does  not  deny  that 
Laplace  may  have  been  right  in  ascribing  a  very  high 
temperature  to  the  original  nebula;    he  only  insists  that  a 


THE   DOGMA   OF  CREATION.  209 

high  temperature  was  not  necessary  for  the  evolution  of 
such  as  our  incandescent  sun. 

Laplace  is  supposed  to  have  held  that  the  bodies  far- 
thest from  the  centre  must  have  originated  first;  but  L,ock- 
yer,  Norton,  and  many  others  think  it  probable  that  many 
bodies  may  have  originated  contemporaneously,  more  than 
one  having  been  liberated  at  the  same  time,  or  several 
bodies  having  been  formed  from  different  zones  of  the 
same  ring. 

In  speaking  of  the  subject  of  the  origin  of  the  celes- 
tial systems,  Newcomb  and  Holden  say:  'The  nebular 
hypothesis  is  a  philosophical  conclusion  founded  on  the 
widest  study  of  nature,  and  pointed  to  by  many  otherwise 
disconnected  facts.  We  learn  from  it  that  the  universe  is 
not  self-sustaining,  but  is  a  kind  of  organism  which,  like 
all  other  organisms,  must  come  to  an  end.' 

L,oomis  regards  the  nebular  hypothesis  as  probably 
true;  Olmstead  and  Snell  think  it  more  in  accordance  with 
the  Creator's  plan  that  the  systems  grew  than  that  they 
were  created,  and  set  in  motion  as  we  now  see  them. 

I  might  continue  indefinitely  this  list  of  authorities; 
but  it  were  a  useless  labor,  as  it  is  impossible  to  name  a 
single  competent  authority  who  does  not  hold  that  the 
celestial  systems  are  all,  as  we  have  said,  the  results  of 
evolution,  or  who  does  not  deny  that  any  of  them  was 
ever  brought  into  existence  by  any  such  creative  act  as  is 
plainly  taught  in  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis. 

Having  shown  that  in  the  mind  of  the  scientific  world 
there  is  no  doubt  that  all  the  stellar  systems  have  had  one 
common  origin,  and  have  acquired  their  present  form  and 
order  under  the  operations  of  law  working  through  vast 
ages  of  time,  we  may  now  seek  some  solid  scientific  grounds 
for  estimating  the  age  of  our  system. 

Our  sun  is  one  of  the  vast  number  of  stars  which,  as 

14 


2IO  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

we  have  stated,  were  thrown  off,  or  in  some  manner  or 
other  derived,  from  one  common  universal  nebula.  How 
long  this  nebula  existed  before  such  segregation  com- 
menced, it  were  vain  to  imagine;  nor  are  we  able  to  state 
whether  our  sun  is  the  oldest  or  youngest  star;  whether  the 
stars  farthest  from  the  centre  of  our  universe  were  first 
formed,  and  those  nearest  the  centre,  last;  or  whether  they 
came  into  existence  by  the  formation  of  nuclei  throughout 
the  nebulous  mass,  as  happens  in  the  churning  of  butter. 
What  we  can  definitely  state  is  that  the  parent  of  the  stars, 
the  nebulous  mass,  must  have  been  in  existence  ages  be- 
fore its  offspring,  the  stars  themselves;  and  that  if  we  can 
show  the  stars,  the  mere  offspring,  existed  untold  ages  be- 
fore the  time  at  which  the  Bible  says  the  world  was  created, 
we  shall  thereby  know  the  account  in  Genesis  must  be  still 
more  incorrect,  since  it  asserts  that  God  created  the  uni- 
verse in  six  days;  for  the  word  universe,  necessarily  in- 
cludes the  parent  of  the  stars,  the  nebulous  mass. 

In  arriving  at  an  adequate  conception  of  the  age  of  the 
solar  system,  we  shall  base  our  investigations  upon  the 
conclusions  already  deduced, — namely,  that  all  the  various 
members  of  the  solar  system  once  existed  in  the  form  of  a 
nebulous  mass  which  had  been  previously  thrown  off,  or 
in  some  manner  or  other  derived,  from  that  universal  fiery 
mist  or  nebulous  matter  out  of  which  the  various  stars  or 
primary  bodies  were  in  like  manner  all  formed. 

Most  people  know  that  heat  is  a  mode  of  motion.  If 
you  rub  your  hands  together,  you  experience  warmth;  and 
by  repeatedly  hammering  a  small  piece  of  iron,  you  can 
make  it  too  hot  to  hold.  As  heat  is  only  a  mode  of  motion, 
heat  and  motion  are  interchangeable.  A  person  uses  a  ton 
of  coal  in  getting  up  steam,  to  raise  to  a  certain  height  a 
certain  amount  of  mineral.  After  it  has  been  thus  raised, 
should  it  be  allowed  freely  to  fall  to  the  place  from  which 


THE   DOGMA   OP  CREATION.  211 

it  had  been  taken,  the  heat  generated  by  the  fall,  allowing 
for  the  loss  by  friction,  would  exactly  equal  the  heat  ex- 
pended in  raising  it. 

Such  men  as  Hirn,  Joule,  Maxwell,  Tyndall,  and 
others  have  conclusively  shown  that  the  amount  of  work 
done  by  an  engine,  is  exactly  equal  to  the  quantity  of  heat 
lost.     This  fact  is  a  well  known  principle  of  physics. 

That  the  heat  of  the  sun  does  not  arise,  as  many  sup- 
pose, from  its  combustion,  is  a  statement  easily  capable 
of  demonstration.  Tf  the  sun  were  solid  carbon,  and  if  a 
constant  and  adequate  supply  of  oxygen  were  present,  it 
has  been  shown  that,  at  the  present  rate  of  radiation,  the 
heat  arising  from  the  combustion  of  the  mass  would  not 
last  more  than  5000  years.'      (Newcomb  and  Holden.) 

Few  persons  have  anything  like  an  adequate  concep- 
tion of  the  amount  of  heat  radiated  by  the  sun  into  space. 
By  experiment  it  has  been  found  that  83.4  foot-pounds  of 
heat  per  second  fall  upon  every  square  foot  of  the  earth's 
surface  exposed  to  the  perpendicular  rays  of  the  sun ;  and 
since  the  surfaces  of  spheres  are  to  one  another  as  the 
squares  of  their  radii,  we  know  the  amount  of  heat  radiat- 
ed from  the  sun's  surface  is  to  that  received  by  the  earth, 
as  the  square  of  the  sun's  distance  from  us  is  to  the  square 
of  his  radius,  or  as  46000  to  1.  This  gives  us  3,869,000 
foot-pounds  of  heat  radiated  from  the  sun's  surface  every 
second, — an  amount  equal  to  7000  horse-power. 

Sir  John  Herschel's  actinometer  and  Pouillet's 
pyrheliometer  are  said  by  Deschanel  to  have  given  the  best 
results  in  determining  the  amount  of  heat  radiated  by  the 
sun.  Pouillet  finds  the  heat  sent  yearly  by  the  sun  to 
the  earth  to  be  sufficient  to  melt  a  layer  of  ice  30  metres 
thick  all  over  the  earth.  Sir  John  Herschel's  estimate  is 
about  the  same. 

Since  the  sun's  radiation  is  about  2100  million  times 


212  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

the  amount  received  by  the  earth,  it  is  said  by  Deschanel 
that  his  total  radiation  is  sufficient  to  melt  a  thickness  of 
two-fifths  of  a  mile  of  ice  per  hour  over  his  whole  surface. 

Such  an  enormous  supply  of  heat  could  not  be  main- 
tained, for  any  length  of  time,  by  combustion.  'It  would 
require  the  combustion  of  about  1 500  lbs.  of  coal  per  hour, 
on  every  square  foot  of  the  sun's  surface.  The  opinion 
that  the  sun's  heat  is  maintained  by  combustion,  can  not  be 
entertained  for  a  single  moment.  A  pound  of  coal  falling 
into  the  sun  from  an  infinite  distance,  would  produce  by 
its  concussion  more  than  6000  times  the  amount  of  heat 
that  would  be  generated  by  its  combustion.'  (Croll:  Clim- 
ate and  Time).  Should  a  pound  of  matter  fall  into  the 
sun  from  an  infinite  distance,  its  energy  would  be  65,000,- 
000,000  foot-pounds, — sufficient  to  raise  1000  tons  five  and 
half  miles  high. 

Helmholtz  says  that  if  the  sun  were  of  uniform  density 
throughout,  'the  heat  developed  by  a  contraction  amount- 
ing to  only  one  ten-thousandth  of  the  solar  diameter, 
would  be  as  much  as  is  emitted  by  the  sun  in  2 1000  years. ' 
(Deschanel).  It  is  largely  through  the  investigations 
made  by  this  most  eminent  scientist,  that  an  explanation 
of  the  sun's  heat,  in  every  way  satisfactory  to  the  scientific 
world,  has  been  found.  This  explanation  is  known  as  the 
cantraction  theory;  and  it  is  adopted  by  the  leading  philoso- 
phers of  all  nations.  It  is, moreover,  the  simplest  and  most 
reasonable,  since  its  main  principle  necessarily  results 
from  the  law  of  gravitation. 

Having  shown  that  the  celestial  bodies  were  never 
created,  in  the  usual  acceptation  of  the  term,  but  grew  in- 
to their  present  form  and  condition  under  natural  laws, 
operating  through  vast  ages;  that  the  sun's  first  existence 
was  not,  as  the  Bible  says,  subsequent  to  that  of  the  earth, 
but  vast  ages  before  it;  that  the  sun's  radiation  is  not  by 


THE    DOGMA   OF    CREATION.  213 

combustion,  nor  from  the  mere  giving  out  of  his  own 
natural  heat,  but  from  the  contraction  of  his  own  sub- 
stance under  the  laws  of  gravity, — we  may  next  ask,  how 
long  has  this  contraction  been  in  progress. 

First,  we  should  say  that  a  body  such  as  the  centre  of 
our  system  was  and  perhaps  is,  might  go  on  for  vast  ages 
radiating  its  heat,  and  contracting,  not  only  without  a  fall, 
but  actually  with  a  rise,  in  temperature.  The  fact  on 
which  this  assertion  is  based,  is  said  to  have  been  discover- 
ed by  Mr.  L,ane,  of  Washington.  It  would  seem  strange, 
but  it  is  admittedly  no  less  true,  that  a  gaseous  body  los- 
ing heat  by  radiation,  and  contracting  under  gravity, 
must,  instead  of  falling  in  temperature,  actually  grow  hotter 
and  hotter,  until  it  ceases  to  be  a  perfect  gas.  The  energy 
acquired  by  the  contraction,  is  more  than  that  lost  by 
radiation.  In  the  case  of  a  solid  or  liquid  this  is  not  so. 
Contraction  may  supply  heat  for  radiation;  but  it  can  not 
raise  the  temperature  of  the  contracting  solid  or  liquid  body, 
nor  keep  it  from  gradually  falling.  Little  by  little  the 
temperature  of  such  a  body  must  be  reduced  to  that  of 
surrounding  space. 

The  condition  of  our  sun  to-day  is  known  to  be  one  that 
is  neither  a  true  gas,  nor  a  liquid,  nor  a  solid.  In  parts 
it  is  a  true  gas,  as  is  proved  by  the  spectroscope;  in  other 
parts,  as  in  the  photospheric  clouds,  there  is  much  liquid; 
while  in  yet  other  parts,  it  is  possibly  solid.  The  present 
relative  proportions  of  true  gases  and  liquids  in  our  sun 
are  such  as  to  keep  his  temperature  about  stationary. 
( Young. )  These  proportions  can  not,  of  course,  last  in- 
definitely long.  The  increase  of  the  liquid  part  must,  at  a 
comparatively  early  date,  destroy  the  present  stability; 
then  the  temperature  will  surely  begin  to  fall.  This  fall 
may  have  already  begun. 

According  to  the  theory   of  contraction  now  about 


214  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

universally  accepted,  a  shortening  of  the  sun's  radius  of 
only  about  125  feet  a  year,  will  suffice  for  the  whole  an- 
nual radiation.  Such  a  small  amount  of  contraction  could 
not  be  noticed  by  us  with  any  known  instruments.  In- 
deed, it  would  take  9000  times  the  amount  of  such  annual 
contraction  to  enable  us  to  verify  by  observations  the  fact 
of  the  sun's  shrinkage.  Should  the  annual  contraction  of 
the  sun's  radius  be  greater  than  125  feet,  his  mean  tem- 
perature must  be  rising;  but  if  there  be  such  rise,  it  can 
continue,  comparatively  speaking,  for  only  a  very  short 
time. 

The  present  temperature  of  the  sun  is  very  high;  but 
nothing  like  definite  information  can  be  had  on  this  point. 
Secchi  thinks  the  the  temperature  of  the  solar  surface  is 
about  6,100,000  degrees  C;  Rosetti  gives  what  is  known 
as  the  effective  temperature  of  the  sun,  at  from  10,000  to 
i8,ooodegrees  C. ;  and  Siemens  sets  it  down  at  3000  degrees 
C.  Where  such  wide  divergencies  of  opinions  exist,  we 
must  admit  that  our  information  concerning  the  sun's  tem- 
perature is  very  limited.  We  may  say,  however,  that  if 
the  sun  were  as  near  to  the  earth  as  the  moon  is,  our  earth 
would  melt  and  vaporize.  The  most  powerful  burning- 
lenses  conclusively  show  this.  For  a  body  placed  at 
the  focus  of  one  of  these,  is  virtually  within  240,000  miles 
of  the  sun's  surface;  and  it  is  known  that  at  such  a  focus 
all   substances   known  to  us  are  melted   and  vaporized. 

In  answering  the  question,  how  long  has  the  sun  been 
in  existence,  Newcomb  says:  'If  we  take  the  doctrine  of 
the  sun's  contraction  as  furnishing  the  complete  explanation 
of  the  solar  heat  during  the  whole  period  of  the  sun's  ex- 
istence, we  can  readily  compute  the  total  amount  of  heat 
which  can  be  generated  by  his  contraction  from  any  as- 
signed volume.  This  amount  has  a  limit,  however  great 
we   may   suppose   the   sun   to   have   been  in  the  begin- 


THE    DOGMA   OF   CREATION.  215 

ning:  a  body  falling  from  an  infinite  distance  would  gen- 
erate only  a  limited  quantity  of  heat,  just  as  it  would  ac- 
quire a  limited  velocity.  It  is  thus  found  that  if  the  sun 
had,  in  the  beginning,  filled  all  space,. the  amount  of  heat 
generated  by  his  contraction  to  his  present  volume  would 
have  been  sufficient  to  last  18,000,000  years  at  his  present 
rate  of  radiation.  The  heat  evolved  by  contraction  from 
an  infinite  size,  or  by  the  falling  of  all  the  parts  of  the  sun 
from  an  infinite  distance,  shows  the  extreme  limit  of  the 
heat  the  sun  could  acquire  from  internal  change,  and  this 
quantity,  as  just  stated,  would  last  only  18,000,000  years. 

Speaking  on  this  same  subject,  Young  tells  us:  'No 
conclusion  of  geometry  is  more  certain  than  this, — that  the 
contraction  of  the  sun  to  its  present  size,  from  a  diameter 
even  many  times  greater  than  Neptune's  orbit,  would  have 
furnished  about  18,000,000  times  as  much  heat  as  the  sun 
now  supplies,  in  a  year,  and  therefore  that  the  sun  can  not 
have  been  emitting  heat  at  the  present  rate  for  more  than 
18,000,000  years,  if  its  heat  has  really  been  generated  in 
this  manner;  but  it  is  not  unlikely  that  the  sun  may  have 
received  energy  from  other  sources  than  its  own  contrac- 
tion. Altogether  it  would  seem  that  we  must  consider  the 
18,000,000  years  to  be  the  least  possible  value  of  a  dura- 
tion which  may  have  been  many  times  more  extended. 
If  the  nebular  hypothesis  and  the  theory  of  the  solar  con- 
traction be  true,  the  sun  must  be  as  old  as  that, — how 
much  older  no  one  can  tell.' 

In  our  estimation  of  the  sun's  age,  based  on  the  con- 
traction theory,  no  allowance  has  been  made  for  any  origi- 
nal heat ;  but  the  computed  age  is  simply  the  time  required 
for  the  dissipation  of  the  heat  that  would  be  acquired  by  the 
solar  contraction,  or  the  contraction  of  the  nebulous  mass, 
on  the  supposition  that  the  nebulous  matter  itself  pos- 
sessed no  original  heat. 


«fl6  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

Now  apart  from  the  demands  of  geology,  it  is  in  every 
way  reasonable  to  hold  that  the  original  nebulous  matter 
had  a  very  high  temperature.  Where  did  this  nebulous 
matter  come  from?  It  could  not  have  been  always  existent ; 
for  on  such  supposition,  contraction  could  not  have  had  a 
beginning.  The  very  supposition  of  contraction  is  founded 
on  the  fact  of  physical  change  in  the  nebula.  The  tendency 
to  contract  is  a  necessary  result  of  gravitation.  If  the  nebu- 
la had  always  been,  contraction  would  have  always  been; 
but  this  latter  is  a  supposition  contrary  to  the  theory  itself. 
The  nebula,  therefore,  must  have  had  a  beginning;  and  it 
is  certain  enough  that  this  beginning  was  in  a  cause  or 
causes  exactly  opposite  to  those  which  are  now  hastening 
a  general  equilibrium  of  temperature  throughout  the  solar 
system.  The  original  nebula,  in  other  words,  must  have 
resulted  from  the  collision  of  two  large  globes,  or  an  indefi- 
nite number  of  small  ones.  This  would  give  the  nebula  out 
of  which  the  solar  system  has  been  formed,  an  original 
temperature,  and  force  us  to  add  to  the  past  life  of  the  sun 
very  many  millions  of  years. 

That  the  original  nebula  had  a  very  high  temperature, 
all  astronomers  regard  as  very  possible;  and  geologists  as- 
sert that  it  is  absolutely  certain,  since  nature  itself  testifies 
to  the  truth  of  the  fact  in  the  strata  of  the  ear  lb. 

An  original  nebula  with  a  very  high  temperature  is 
easily  accounted  for  on  the  supposition  of  collision.  If  two 
globes  each  one-half  of  the  sun's  dimensions  should  collide, 
each  moving  with  a  velocity  of  563  miles  per  second,  they 
would  generate  in  a  single  moment  no  less  than  70,000,000 
times  as  much  heat  as  is  now  annually  radiated  by  the  sun. 
(Croll:  Climate  and  Time).  This  would  give  us  in  all  for 
the  past  life  of  the  sun  about  90,000,000  years. 

Prof.  Helmholtz  holds  that  the  earth,  a  child  of  the 
sun,  must  have  been  350,000,006  years  in  passing  from  a 


THE    DOGMA    OF    CREATION.  217 

temperature  of  2,000  degrees  C.to  200  degrees  C. ;  and  Dana 
says  that  at  the  end  of  the  archaean  age,  the  temperature 
of  the  earth  was  not  probably  over  38  degrees  C. ;  and  gives 
us  50,000,000  years  as  about  the  time  since  the  commence- 
ment of  the  Silurian  age,  Of  the  time  that  had  elapsed  be- 
fore the  Silurian  age,  this  author  says  it  was  'very  long.' 
~L,e  Conte  says  the  Azoic  age  was  longer  than  all  the  re- 
maining history  of  the  earth,  and  calls  it  'an  infinite  abyss 
of  past  time.'  (Geology,  378).  Winchell  tells  us  that  the 
time  required  for  the  changes  we  find  in  the  earth,  must 
have  been  vast;  and  the  noted  physicist,  Sir  William 
Thompson,  on  grounds  other  than  geologicol,  estimates  the 
age  of  the  earth's  crust  at  100,000,000  years;  and  the  earth, 
as  before  stated,  is  a  mere  offspring  of  the  sun. 

The  early  earth  was  not  unlike  our  present  sun.  It 
was  at  first  nebulous,  and  after  many  millions  of  years  be- 
came a  globe  of  molten  rock.  While  it  was  in  a  gaseous 
state,  the  result  of  contraction,  as  we  have  said,  would  be 
a  rise  in  temperature ;  but  as  soon  as  it  became  largely  liquid 
and  solid,  the  loss  by  radiation  would  more  than  equal  the 
heat  evolved  by  contraction.  Its  temperature  would  there- 
fore begin  to  fall;  and  this  decrease  will  never  cease. 
Farther  and  farther  from  the  surface  will  the  earth's  mol- 
ten state  recede,  until  the  earth  shall  have  lost  all  her  in- 
ternal fires.  This  decrease  of  the  earth's  natural  heat  would 
be  much  more  rapid,  were  it  not  for  the  thick  crust  super- 
imposed on  the  molten  matter,  which  protects  the  earth  as 
the  polar  bear's  coat  preserves  the  animal's  heat.  Humboldt 
and  Elie  de  Beaumont  give  2 1  miles  as  the  thickness  of  the 
earth's  crust;  Bischot,  24;  Osmand  Fisher,  25  to  30;  and 
Newcomb  says:  'The  whole  earth  is  red-hot  at  a  distance 
of  from  ten  to  fifteen  miles  below  its  surface.  We  have 
every  reason  to  believe  that  the  increase  of  100  degrees  a 
mile  continues  many  miles  into  the  interior  of  the  earth. 


2l8  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

The  earth  is  really  a  sphere  of  molten  matter  surrounded 
by  a  comparatively  thin  solid  crust  on  which  we  live. '  In- 
deed, it  seems  the  ancients  must  have  been  fully  acquainted 
with  the  internal  heat  of  the  earth.  Tertullian,  one  of  the 
great  fathers  of  the  church,  says:  'By  ourselves  the  lower 
regions  of  hell  are  believed  to  be  a  vast  cavern  in  the  in- 
terior of  the  earth. '  This  good  father  determined,  you  see, 
to  locate  the  orthodox  hell  in  a  place  hot  enough. 

Sir  William  Thompson  estimates  the  yearly  loss  of 
heat  by  the  earth,  as  sufficient  to  melt  777  cubic  miles  of  ice. 

It  is  quite  generally  held  that  the  earth  was  hundreds 
of  millions  of  years  old  before  it  was  cold  enough  for  the 
abode  of  life,  such  as  we  now  know.  We  have  already 
given  Helmholtz'  estimate,  350,000,000  years,  as  the  time 
the  earth  required  to  pass  from  a  temperature  of  2,000  to 
200  degrees  C. ;  and  Dana  holds  that  the  earth  was  many 
millions  of  years  after  this, before  it  became  the  abode  of  life. 

It  is  universally  held  that  the  Azoic  age  of  the  earth 
was  of  greater  duration  than  all  her  subsequent  ages;  yet 
we  know  little  or  nothing  of  the  life  of  the  Azoic  age. 
Some  of  the  lowest  orders  of  life  were  undoubtedly  repre- 
sented at  the  close  of  this  age;  but  the  true  life-history  of 
our  globe  is  generally  held  to  have  commenced  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Paleozoic  times,  which  age  Dana  estimates 
as  having  lasted  36,000,000  years.  Then  came  the  Meso- 
zoic  and  Cenozoic  ages,  for  the  duration  of  which  Dana 
gives  us  9,000,000  and  3,000,000  years  respectively. 

We  have  coral  reefs  more  than  2,000  feet  thick,  for 
the  building  of  which  geologists  insist  not  less  than  384, 
000  years  were  required. 

Since  the  days  of  Sir  Charles  L,yell,  to  whom  the  sci- 
ence owes  its  thanks  for  its  establishment  upon  its  present 
sound  and  philosophical  basis,  geology  has  been  making 
rapid  strides.   Its  voice  to-day  is  attentively  listened  to  in 


THE    DOGMA   OF    CREATION.  219 

the  councils  of  the  wise,  and  its  conclusions  are  received 
with  the  approval  of  the  scientific  world. 

Geologists  may  demand  more  millions  of  years  than 
physicists  are  willing  to  give  them,  and  physicists  may  dif- 
fer among  themselves  many  millions  of  years;  but  where 
the  birth  of  the  universe  is  acknowledged  by  all  to  have 
been  an  event  which  must  have  occurred  at  such  a  remote 
period  in  the  eternity  of  the  past,  a  few  millions  of  years 
are  of  little  importance  in  the  consideration  of  our  question. 

Abundant  remains  of  man  are  found  in  the  Quater- 
nary age;  and  it  is  held  by  very  many  that  he  first  appeared 
in  the  Tertiary.  'Fossil  remains  of  men  have  hitherto  been 
found  in  late  Tertiary  deposits.'  (Huxley).  'That  man,' 
says  Winchell,  'existed  in  remote  preglacial  times,  is  not 
improbable;'  and  computing  it  on  astronomical  grounds, 
Croll  and  Wallace  say  that  the  glacial  epoch  began  240, 
000  years  ago,  and  lasted  160,000  years.  This  conclusion 
is  accepted  by  Geike  and  many  other  English  geologists. 
The  astronomical  consideration  of  the  age  is  based  on  the 
precession  of  the  equinoxes  and  secular  changes  in  the  ec- 
centricity of  the  earth's  orbit. 

It  would  seem,  therefore,  that  240,000  years  is  the 
least  time  we  can  consider  man  as  having  been  an  inhabi- 
tant of  the  earth;  and  we  are  sure  that  the  leading  ethnol- 
ogists and  anthropologists  of  the  world,  would  not  much 
demur  to  this  statement.  Says  Huxley,  than  whom  none  is 
better  qualified  to  speak, :  'There  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
existing  fauna  and  flora  is  but  the  last  term  of  a  long 
series  of  equally  numerous  contemporary  species,  which 
have  succeeded  one  another,  by  the  slow  and  gradual  sub- 
stitution of  species  for  species,  in  the  vast  interval  of  time 
which  has  elapsed  between  the  deposition  of  the  earliest 
fossiliferous  strata  and  the  present  day.' 

We  have  given  sufficient  proof  that  the  Biblical  word,; 


220  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

at  the  head  of  our  lecture,  do  not  convey  the  truth;  that 
God  neither  created  the  universe  in  six  days,  nor  any  mem- 
ber thereof;  nor  even  the  earth,  one  of  the  least  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  solar  system,  nor  any  of  its  fauna  or  flora;  that 
creation  has  been  a  gradual  process  from  the  least  to  the 
most  differentiated, — from  the  nebulous  ball  down  to  the 
fiery  earth,  from  the  lowest  living  organism  to  the  highest 
human  genius. 

We  should  learn  from  the  evident  inaccuracy  of  these 
biblical  words,  to  regard  the  so-called  revelation  of  God  in 
the  past,  as  subordinate  to  that  ever-present  and  increasing 
manifestation  of  the  Divine  Being,  witnessed  in  the  myriad 
investigations  carried  forward  by  the  inquiring  mind  of 
man,  who  in  himself,  though  but  an  erring  child,  is  the 
highest  revelation  of  the  Infinite  Father. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THOUGHTS   OF   AN   HONEST   PRIEST. 

He  would  not  flatter  Neptune  for  his  trident, 

Or  Jove  for  his  power  to  thunder.  His  heart's  his  mouth: 

What  his  breast  forges,  that  his  tongue  must  vent. 

(Shakspere) 

\  FTKR  having  delivered,  one  Sunday  morning,   a  ser. 

mon  on  the  Person  of  Christ,  Merton  was  visited  by  his 

senior  warden,  who  soon  began  the  following  conversation: 

"Mr.  Merton,  I  notice  that  in  your  sermons  you  fre- 
quently use  such  expressions  as,  If  Christ  be  God;  If 
eternal  punishment  be  true;  If  Christ  was  immaculately 
born;  If  we  live  after  death;  etc.  I  supposed  these  matters 
were  not  open  to  question ;  therefore  I  can  not  see  that  you 
have  any  right  to  the  use  of 'ifs'.  Have  you  really  any 
doubt  about  these  things?  Do  you  really  doubt  the  dogmas 
of  the  church?' ' 

"Though  I  can  not  say,  Mr.Howard,  that  I  really  disbe- 
lieve any  of  the  great  dogmas  of  the  church,  I  nevertheless 
candidly  admit  that  I  have  my  doubts  and  fears.  If  you 
ask  me,  for  instance,  'Do  you  believe  in  the  diyinity  of  Jesus 
Christ?'  I  would  answer, 'yes' ;  but  should  you  ask,  'Do  you 
believe  without  a  doubt  that  Jesus  Christ  is  God?T  could  not 
truthfully  answer  affirmatively.  One  may  say,  as  thousands 
do, that  he  believes  in  the  divinity  of  Jesus  Christ, and  yet  not 
believe  that  he  is  the  infinite  Deity,  the  life,  fullness,  and  po- 
tency of  the  whole  universe.  So  also  may  one  say,  T  believe,' 
his  heart  at  the  same  time  being  torn  with  a  tempest  of  doubt 
and  fear.  If  ministers  were  asked,  'Do  you  believe  in  the  di- 
vinity  of  Jesus  Christ?',  for  the  most  part,  and  for  many 


222  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

reasons,  they  would  answer,  'yes  ; '  but  if  they  were  asked 
the  far  more  searching  question,  '  Is  there  no  doubt  at  all 
in  your  heart  that  Jesus  Christ  is  God  Almighty  ? '  I  know 
from  my  relations  with  them  for  the  last  fifteen  years  that 
they  could  not  truthfully  answer  the  question  affirmatively. 
I  have  been  acquainted  with  many  ministers,  I  have  talked 
seriously  with  many  ;  but  never  with  one  who,  when  closely 
questioned  in  confidence,  would  not  admit  the  existence  of 
the  uncertainty  which  dwells,  to  a  greater  or  less  extent, 
according  to  the  degree  of  education,  in  the  breast,  as  I 
believe,  of  all  I  have  ever  known.  This  could  not  be  other- 
wise ;  for  who  of  all  the  learned  critics,  philosophers,  scien- 
tists and  historians,  having  examined  the  evidence  contained 
in  Scripture  and  elsewhere,  upon  which  are  founded  the 
dogmas  of  orthodoxy,  is  satisfied,  beyond  doubt,  of  the  truth 
of  these  dogmas  ?  I  answer,  not  one.  This  also  could  not 
be  otherwise  ;  for  in  the  words  of  a  contemporary  writer  : 
'  There  is  hardly  one  fact  known  to  be  the  undoubted  result 
of  modern  science,  which  does  not  shatter  to  pieces  the 
whole  fabric  of  orthodoxy.'  Among  those  who  have  made 
a  thorough  investigation  of  this  subject,  the  opinion  of  Mill 
may  in  general  be  said  to  be  held  in  common  :  '  In  the 
Christianity  of  the  Gospels,  at  least  in  its  ordinary  interpre- 
tation, there  are  moral  difficulties  and  perversions  of  so  fla- 
grant a  character  as  almost  to  outweigh  all  the  beauty  and 
benignity  and  moral  greatness  which  so  eminently  distin- 
guish the  sayings  and  character  of  Christ.  .  .  .  The  di- 
vine message,  assuming  it  to  be  such,  has  been  authenticated 
by  credentials  so  insufficient  that  they  fail  to  convince  a 
large  proportion  of  the  strongest  and  most  cultivated  minds; 
and  the  tendency  to  disbelieve  them  appears  to  grow  with 
the  growth  of  scientific  knowledge  and  critical  discrimina- 
tion.' (Utility  of  Religion.) 
"  Ministers  are  men,  and  some  of  them  are  educated.     Of 


THOUGHTS   OF   AN   HONEST   PRIEST.  223 

the  educated  portion  all  have  their  doubts  and  fears  in  com- 
mon with  the  rest  of  mankind.  But  why,  it  may  be  asked, 
do  they  then  not  acknowledge  these  doubts  more  plainly 
than  they  do?  Such  a  question  may  readily  be  answered: 
Why  does  not  the  lawyer  expose  to  judge  and  jury  the 
weakness  of  his  case?  Why  does  not  the  physician  ac- 
knowledge his  ignorance  of  the  disease  which,  like  a  hawk, 
eats  the  life  of  his  patient  away?  He  who  can  answer  these 
questions,  and  every  sensible  person  can,  is  equally  prepar- 
ed, if  he  only  will,  to  give  a  satisfactory  reason  why  the 
minister  exposes  not  the  weakness  of  his  creed;  and  he  who 
can  not  give  such  a  satisfactory  reason,  would  likely  re- 
ceive no  help  from  me,  however  fully  I  might  explain  it; 
for  being  credulous  and  superstitious,  it  is  very  improbable 
that  he  would  be  capable  of  appreciating  such  an  expla- 
nation, or  that  his  opinion  would  be  changed  by  argument. 

"For  my  part,  I  have  never  sought  to  hide  the  doubts  and 
fears  which  more  and  more  have  found  a  lodging-place  in  my 
heart.  I  can  not  deceive  you;  nor  will  I  contend  for  what  I 
believe  is  contrary  to  fact  or  reason.     This  I  can  not  do. 

"  'Fingunt  simul  creduntque,'  is  an  old  proverb,  and 
means  that  when  one  makes  an  hypothesis  in  explanation  of 
any  phenomena,  he  will  at  once  contend  for  its  truth.  An  ig- 
norant preacher  declaring  vehemently  the  thoughts  of  his 
heart,  is  wont  to  say  he  speaks  by  the  inspiration  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  If  a  man  contends  wilfully  for  the  truth  of 
error,  he  paralyzes  his  mind,  and  renders  himself  incapable 
of  searching  for  further  truth;  even  if  he  only  unintentional- 
ly does  this,  he  is  liable  to  be  confirmed  in  the  belief  of  his 
error.  These  results  are  seen  with  fearful  effects  in  religion. 
We  find  Augustine,  for  instance,  a  rational-minded  Chris- 
tian, before  his  contention  with  Pelagius;  but  after  this  he 
becomes  as  much  of  an  extremist  on  the  one  side,  as  Pe- 
lagius was  on  the  other.     Indeed    I  can  not  think  that  the 


224  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUI,. 

teachings  of  the  latter  are  near  as  baneful  as  those  of  the 
former.  Augustine  lays  down  premises,  and  through  his 
blinding  passion  to  conquer,  strives,  according  to  the  pro- 
verb, to  make  himself  and  others  believe  that  his  conclu- 
sions are  true.  Adam,  he  tells  us,  was  created  with  a  nature 
'posse  non  peccare  et  non  mori,'  that  is,  with  such  a  na- 
ture that  he  might  have  lived  free  from  sin  and  free  from 
death;  but  having  transgressed,  Adam,  he  says,  became 
'  non  posse  non  peccare  et  non  mori,'  that  is,'  became  such 
that  he  could  not  live  without  sin  nor  without  death.  Now, 
since  man  is  declared  in  Scripture  incapable  of  self-redemp- 
tion, Augustine  holds  that  it  is  evident  that  as  many  as  are 
saved,  are  saved  by  grace;  and  since  all  are  not  saved,  al- 
though they  would  be,  that  it  is  not  because  of  their  lack  of 
desire,  but  because  of  the  eternal  and  unconditional  decree 
of  God.  Thus  we  find  Augustine  denying  the  freedom  of 
the  mind,  offering  us  an  absurd  gospel,  and  presenting  us 
with  a  god  the  most  unjust  and  base.  All  this  he  does  in 
contention  for  what  he  has  assumed.  This  is  the  predesti- 
nation theory  which  -  has  its  advocates  in  the  Christian 
church  of  to-day,  and  which,  if  true,  would  induce  me  to 
be  very  charitable  of  the  devil's  sin,  and. conclude  God  not 
only  the  author  and  builder  of  hell,  but  also  of  all  the  sin  in 
the  universe.  Such  false  doctrine  kills  the  soul  of  the 
teacher,  and  certainly  unfits  it  for  noble  living  or  noble  dy- 
ing, by  philosophically  destroying  the  highest  incentives  to 
virtue,  and  reducing  man  to  a  mere  tool. 

"  Belief  saves  nobody;  the  truth  only  saves.  If  we  would 
be  saved,  we  must  know  the  truth,  for  truth  only  has  the 
power  of  giving  life.  But  if  a  man  would  preach  the  truth 
and  the  truth  only,  he  must  dig  carefully  and  deep,  as  if  for 
hidden  treasures.  To  do  this  there  is  need  of  a  mind  well 
furnished  not  only  with  theological  knowledge,  but  also 
with  that  of  science  in  general;  for  every  science  is  subsid- 


THOUGHTS    OP   AN    HONEST    PRIEST.  225 

iary  to  theological  knowledge.  The  minister,  therefore, 
should  be  a  man  of  the  broadest  culture,  tenacious  of  the 
truth,  and  fearful  of  nothing  but  error.  He  should  be  sat- 
isfied with  the  substance  only,  and  not  with  the  shadow; 
with  the  reality,  and  not  with  the  appearance. 

"It  must  be  admitted  that  such  teaching  as  you  receive 
from  me,  must  make  men  think  for  themselves,  and,  there- 
fore, cast  off  to  a  great  extent  the  shackles  of  dogmas  and 
superstition.  It  enforces  the  fact  that  it  is  not  belief  nor  a 
name  which  saves  the  soul,  but  truth  and  truth  only;  and 
since  man  can  be  saved  by  truth  only,  such  teaching  leads 
him  to  inquire  carefully  into  the  character  of  his  religious 
belief.  The  natural  result  of  such  teaching  is  to  make  men 
rationalistic,  and  therefore  ready  to  discover  any  error  in 
their  religious  belief.  Such  men  soon  find  that  there  is 
much  of  Christian  dogma  which  can  not  stand  the  in- 
vestigation of  a  critical  mind. 

"I  am  glad  indeed,  in  a  certain  sense,  that  you  are  so 
well  satisfied;  but  I  am  equally  glad  that  the  declaration 
of  the  church,  being  such  an  interested  party,  is  not  suf- 
ficient to  prevent  my  mind  from  thinking,  or  force  on  me 
the  belief  that  there  is  no  longer  any  room  for  further 
inquiry.  Concerning  the  deity  of  Christ,  it  is  not  sufficient 
that  the  apostles  asserted  it,  or  that  even  Christ  himself  de- 
clared it.  Have  I  not  the  right  to  demand  proof  as  to  the 
ability  of  the  apostles,  to  determine  the  grave  questions  at 
issue  ?  Have  I  not  the  right  to  demand  the  production  of 
the  evidence  upon  which  they  base  their  judgment  ?  May 
I  not  demand  that  the  evidence  produced  shall  be  such  as 
would  force  from  me  to-day  the  acknowledgment  of  the 
deity  of  a  person  who,  living  amongst  us,  might  be  said  to 
perform  similar  miracles?" 

The  gentleman   answered,  "I    suppose  such  demands 
would  be  just  and  fair." 


2_'6  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

"  Not  only,  my  friend,  would  they  be,  as  you  say,  just 
and  fair ;  but  it  would  be  my  duty  to  make  such  demands. 
If  we  examine,  in  a  critical  spirit,  the  statements  made  in 
the  Gospels,  the  halo  of  glory  which  is  now  superstitiously 
shed  about  them,  soon  disappears.  In  the  first  place,  there 
are  the  authors  of  the  synoptic  gospels,  Matthew,  Mark  and 
Luke.  To  the  author  or  words  of  the  fourth  gospel,  it  is 
useless  to  refer,  since  both  the  author  and  his  words  are 
subjects  of  too  much  uncertainty  and  speculation.  What 
shall  we  say  of  the  three  who  remain  to  testify  to  the  life 
and  words  of  Christ  ?  I  answer,  we  can  say  nothing;  for  of 
their  persons  and  lives  we  have  no  really  satisfactory  and 
authentic  information.  From  tradition  and  the  little  we  find 
in  the  New  Testament  itself  concerning  them,  it  is  generallv 
inferred  that  they  were  ignorant  men,  and,  therefore,  we 
say,  totally  unfit  to  discriminate  between  the  miraculous  and 
the  natural.  When  I  ask  for  proof  of  it,  I  can  not  find  that 
the  apostles  had  sufficient  ability  to  determine  the  questions 
at  issue.  Indeed,  in  the  early  ages  it  was  a  much  disputed 
question,  whether  the  apostles  could  even  write  ;  and  to-day 
the  question  is  far  from  settled.  In  the  second  place,  if  I 
ask  for  the  production  of  the  evidence  upon  which  the 
apostles  base  their  opinions,  what  do  we  find  ?  Why,  I  am 
presented  with  a  few  documents  disagreeing  in  many  ma- 
terial points,  and  whose  authors  are  either  wholly  unknown, 
or  subjects  of  contradictory  judgments.  Let  us  examine 
more  closely.  Even  if  we  admit  that  the  author  of  our 
present  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew,  was  the  same  person  as  the 
Matthew  who  is  said  to  have  been  the  apostle  of  Christ,  still 
it  does  not  help  us  much  ;  for  Papias  distinctly  says  that 
this  Matthew  '  put  together  the  oracles  of  the  Lord  in  the 
Hebrew  language,  and  each  one  interpreted  it  as  best  he 
could.'  Of  this  original  work  of  St.  Matthew  we  know  ab- 
solutely nothing  ;  and  it  does  not  increase  our  confidence  in 


THOUGHTS   OF   AN   HONEST   PRIEST.  227 

the  copy  we  possess,  to  be  told  by  Papias  that  each  one 
translated  the  original  as  best  he  could.  The  greatest  writers 
of  the  world  acknowledge  that  our  Matthew  is  not  the  orig- 
inal Matthew.  If,  then,  I  demand  the  genuine  work  of  St. 
Matthew,  I  am  offered  instead,  according  to  some,  only  a 
translation  whose  accuracy  I  must  question,  because  of  the 
suspicion  cast,  by  the  words  of  Papias,  upon  the  author's 
ability  ;  and,  according  to  others,  only  a  compilation  made 
from  other  writings,  the  chief  of  which  v/as  probably  thes 
original  Gospel  of  St.  Mark.  Stating  it  more  briefly  :  of  the 
writer  of  the  original  St.  Matthew  we  have  no  definite  and 
satisfactory  information  ;  we  do  not  possess  the  original,  nor 
know  of  any  one  that  ever  did  ;  the  Gospel  of  St.  Matthew 
which  we  possess,  is  not  the  original  St.  Matthew,  but  at 
best  only  a  translation  made  by  some  unknown  person  whose 
ability  to  perform  such  labor  must  be  questioned,  since  he 
did  it  only  '  as  best  he  could '  ;  or,  lastly  and  probably,  it 
may  be  the  compilation  of  an  unknown  author,  based  chiefly 
upon  the  original  Gospel  of  St.  Mark.  I  ask  any  candid  and 
unprejudiced  mind,  is  there  no  room  for  doubt  about  the 
statements  made  in  such  a  gospel.  Such  a  question  admits  of 
but  one  answer.  When  we  come  to  the  Gospel  of  St.  Mark, 
we  find  no  better  satisfaction.  Of  the  person  and  life  of  St. 
Mark  we  know  nothing,  or  worse  than  nothing,  except  the 
little  we  gather  from  the  New  Testament ;  on  the  latter  we 
can  place,  in  our  judgment,  but  little  reliance,  as  well  be- 
cause it  is  a  witness  testifying  in  its  own  behalf,  as  of  the 
unsatisfactory  character  of  what  is  there  said.  If  I  ask, 
therefore,  for  proof  of  the  ability  of  St.  Mark  to  determine 
the  questions  at  issue,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  get  it.  It  is 
generally  conceded  by  the  most  impartial  and  prominent 
critics,  that  our  Gospel  of  St.  Mark  is  not  the  original  Gospel 
of  St.  Mark  ;  but,  first,  an  emended  copy  made  either  by  an 
unknown  person  or  the  author  of  the  original  ;  or,  secondly, 


228  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUI<. 

that  it  is  the  result  of  not  less  than  two,  and  probably  many, 
revisions,  the  first  of  which  may,  or  may  not,  have  been 
made  by  the  original  author,  and  the  second,  or  subsequent 
ones,  by  some  person  or  persons  unknown,  who,  at  the  time 
of  their  revision,  made  many  additions  to  the  original  work. 
And,  now,  if  we  ask  did  St.  Mark  witness  the  occurrences  he 
describes,  we  have  to  answer,  he  did  not  ;  for  we  are  told  by 
Papias,  who  of  all  was  most  likely  to  know,  that  St.  Mark 
never  saw  the  Lord,  nor  heard  him  speak  ;  but  that,  becom- 
ing a  disciple  and  interpreter  of  St.  Peter,  he  wrote  his 
gospel  from  what  he  remembered  of  St.  Peter's  teaching  : 

'Outs  yap  yzouae  too  xuptou  ours  Tzaprjxokouffrjds  aurtu.    Manxos 
pvj  ipprjvsurrjS  Ihrpou  yevo/xevos  6aa  e,uvrj/xoveu<T£  axpc,3ws  eypaujtev. 

"  In  St  Mark,  therefore,  we  have  no  eye-witness  to  the 
occurrences  he  relates.  The  original  gospel  of  St.  Mark 
was  simply  a  memorabilia  of  the  teachings  of  St.  Peter, 
penned  by  Mark,  his  disciple  and  interpreter,  after  St. 
Peter's  death.  If  then  I  demand  written  proof  of  the 
occurrences  which  St.  Mark  relates,  I  am  offered  at  best  the 
written  testimony  of  one  who  never  witnessed  the  occur- 
rences he  describes;  while  in  all  probability  I  am  offered 
not  even  this  much,  but,  according  to  some,  a  document 
supposed  to  be  an  emended  copy  made  by  the  original  au- 
thor; or,  according  to  others,  a  document  which  has  passed 
through  several  revisions,  and  received  many  alterations.  I 
ask,  can  any  candid  and  unprejudiced  mind  receive  without 
question  the  statements  made  in  such  documents  ?  Is  there 
no  room  for  doubt  about  the  assertions  made  in  such  a  gos- 
pel ?  Such  a  question  admits  of  but  one  answer— and  that 
answer  I  would  give,  though  all  the  earth  should  give  a  con- 
trary  one— truth  and  reason  demand  it. 

"  And  now  we  come  to  the  consideration  of  the  last  of 
the  synoptic  gospels,  the  Gospel  according  to  St.  Luke. 
The  author  of  this  gospel  is  supposed  to  have  been  a  com- 


THOUGHTS   OF   AN    HONEST    PRIEST.  229 

panion  of  St.  Paul.  By  some  he  is  said  to  have  been  a  phy- 
sician, by  some  a  painter,  by  others  both.  He  was  probably 
a  native  of  Antioch  and  a  Gentile  Christian.  But  what  we 
know  of  St.  Luke,  may  be  sufficiently  inferred  from  the 
words  of  Prof.  Reuss :  'Such  a  work  was  undertaken  by  a 
man  who  was  strongly  drawn  to  it  by  his  interest  in  the  mat- 
ter, and  who,  by  his  connection  with  the  apostle's,  or  at  least 
their  immediate  pupils,  was  probably  placed  in  a  condition  to 
accomplish  his  task  as  well  as  it  could  be  done  in  his  time. 
This  was  the  unknown  author  of  our  Third  Gospel.'  Here 
we  find  St.  Luke  called  by  this  learned  critic  the  'unknown 
author ' ;  and  this  title,  as  far  as  we  know,  justly  describes 
him.  So  then,  if  I  ask  for  definite  and  satisfactory  proof 
that  St.  Luke  had  the  ability  to  determine  the  questions  at 
issue,  I  am  unable  to  get  it;  yet  he  was  probably  the  most 
scholarly  of  all  the  apostles. 

"  Further,  it  is  admitted  by  all  that  St.  Luke  was  not  an 
apostle,  that  he  was  not  an  eye-witness  to  the  occurrences 
he  relates;  and  it  is  quite  generally  admitted  that  his  gospel 
is  a  critical  work  based  upon  various  written  documents,  the 
chief  of  which  was  probably  the  original  Gospel  of  St. 
Mark.  I  ask  any  candid  and  unprejudiced  mind,  is  there 
no  room  for  doubt  about  the  statements  made  in  such  a 
gospel  ?  Such  a  question  admits  of  but  one  answer.  There 
is  one  thing,  however,  that  can  not  be  answered  without 
casting  obloquy  on  the  ministerial  profession,  —  that  is,  why 
can  ministers  who  profess  to  lead  the  world  into  truth,  dare 
refer  to  these  documents  as  infallible  and  inspired  writings? 
In  conclusion,  let  me  ask  you  to  read  this  from  the  great 
and  truth-loving  Mill,  which  I  think  a  lucid  and  just  state- 
ment of  the  whole  subject;  and,  while  you  read,  think: 

" '  To  all  these  considerations  ought  to  be  added  the 
extremely  imperfect  nature  of  the  testimony  itself.  Take 
it  at   best,    it   is   the    uncross-examined    testimony   of  ex- 


230  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

tremely  ignorant  people  ;  credulous  as  such  usually  are  ; 
unaccustomed  to  draw  the  line  between  the  perceptions  of 
sense,  and  what  is  superinduced  upon  them  by  the  sugges- 
tions of  a  lively  imagination;  unversed  in  the  difficult  art  of 
deciding  between  appearances  and  reality,  and  between  the 
natural  and  the  supernatural  ;  in  times,  moreover,  when  no 
one  thought  it  worth  while  to  contradict  any  alleged  miracle 
because  it  was  the  belief  of  the  age  that  miracles  in  them- 
selves proved  nothing,  since  they  could  be  worked  by  a 
lying  spirit  as  well  as  by  the  spirit  of  God.  Such  were  the 
witnesses;  and  even  of  them  we  do  not  possess  the  direct  tes- 
timony; the  documents,  of  date  long  subsequent,  even  on  the 
orthodox  theory,  which  contains  the  only  history  of  these 
events,  very  often  do  not  even  name  the  supposed  eye-wit- 
nesses. .  .  (The  evidence  is)  not  of  a  character  to  warrant 
belief  in  any  facts  in  the  smallest  degree  unusual  or  improb- 
able ;  the  eye-witnesses  in  most  cases  unknown,  in  none 
competent  by  character  or  education  to  scrutinize  the  real 
nature  of  the  appearances  which  they  may  have  seen,  and 
moved  moreover  by  a  union  of  the  strongest  motives  which 
can  inspire  human  beings  to  persuade,  first  themselves,  and 
then  others,  that  what  they  had  seen  was  a  miracle.  The 
facts,  too,  even  if  faithfully  reported,  are  never  incompatible 
with  the  supposition  that  they  were  either  mere  coincidences, 
or  were  produced  by  natural  means  ;  even  when  no  specific 
conjecture  can  be  made  as  to  those  means,  which  in  general 
it  can.  .  .  I  can  not  attach  any  evidentiary  value  to  the 
testimony  even  of  Christ  on  such  a  subject,  since  he  is 
never  said  to  have  declared  any  evidence  of  his  mission, 
except  internal  conviction  ;  and  everybody  knows  that  in 
prescientific  times  men  always  supposed  that  any  unusual 
faculties  which  came  to  them  they  knew  not  how,  were  an 
inspiration  from  God  ;  the  best  men  always  being  the  read- 
iest to  ascribe  any  honorable  peculiarity  in  themselves  to 


THOUGHTS   OF  AN   HONEST   PRIEST.  23 1 

that  higher  source,  rather  than  to  their  own  merits.'  (Es- 
says on  Religion.) 

"Conscious  of  the  uncertainty  in  meaning  of  so  many 
passages  of  Scripture,  recognizing  the  great  disagree- 
ment among  the  most  eminent  scholars  as  to  the  divine 
origin  of  the  book  we  call  the  Bible,  and  knowing  the 
truth  of  Goethe's  words: 

•Der  Goetter  Worte  sind  nicht  doppelsinnig — 
The  words  of  the  gods  are  not  ambiguous.' 

(////.  anf  Tauris), 

don't  you  thing  I  have  good  grounds  for  the  use  of 'ifs'  in 
my  sermons?" 

"Well,  I  should  say  you  had.  But  it  is  a  great  surprise 
to  me.  If  the  people  were  to  know  the  truth  about  things, 
the  churches  would  soon  be  emptier  than  they  now  are; 
but  I  am  sure  it  is  better  to  know  the  truth  than  to  found 
one's  hopes  upon  matters  that  can  not  stand  investigation. ' ' 

Thus  saying  the  gentleman  departed,  and  Merton  was 
alone  with  his  thoughts.  Silently  as  his  heart  was  beat- 
ing, his  soul  was  in  a  tempest;  and  he  was  powerless  to  say, 
"peace,  be  still".  He  was  afraid  he  had  done  his  friend 
more  evil  than  good  by  disturbing  his  sense  of  security, 
however  much  deceived  his  friend  may  have  been;  yet  he 
could  not  be  false  to  his  own  convictions  of  duty,  nor  give 
false  ideas  concerning  his  own  belief. 

Merton' s  faith  in  the  Scriptures  as  a  sacred  revelation 
from  God,  was  fast  leaving  him.  He  had  read  the  Old 
Testament  through  nearly  three  times,  in  the  original  lan- 
guage; and  the  more  perfectly  he  became  acquainted  with 
it,  the  less  he  thought  of  it.  He  could  not  be  blind  to  the 
immorality  contained  in  its  pages,  to  its  many  contra- 
dictions, to  the  wicked  and  most  infamous  conduct  of  not 
a  few  of  those  who  are  said  to  have  been  men  after  God's 
own  heart,  to  the  fact  that  it  ascribes  to  God  motives  such 


232  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

as  no  good  man  could  have,  and  actions  such  as  no  good 
man  would  or  could  be  guilty  of  doing,  nor  to  its  childish 
and  false  notions  concerning  the  origin  and  working  of  the 
great  cosmos  of  God. 

The  New  Testament  is,  of  course,  a  higher  develop- 
ment. It  is  the  fruit  of  many  trees,  only  one  of  which, 
the  Old  Testament,  is  Jewish.  The  Grecian  and  Eastern 
philosophies  and  religions  are  manifest  factors  of  the  New 
Testament.  Taking  the  Bible  as  a  whole,  it  seemed  to 
Merton  that  it  could  not  possibly  be  the  work  of  men 
whose  minds  and  pens  were  guided  by  God.  If  so,  then 
w7e  must  not  only  be  made  after  God's  own  image,  but  God 
must  be  in  our  image:  mutable,  irritable,  malevolent,  en- 
vious, jealous,  given  to  having  favorites,  imperfect  in  wis- 
dom, subject  to  improvement  and  repentance, — in  short, 
the  God  of  the  Bible  is  but  an  enlarged  man.  Harnack 
says  Augustine  was  the  first  great  theologian  to  anthro- 
pomorphize God,  or  give  Him  a  personality  similar  to  our 
own.  He  may  have  been  the  first  eminent  theologian  to 
do  this;  but  all  theologians  whether  before  or  after  Augus- 
tine, and  all  biblical  writers,  have  been  guilty  of  the  same 
dangerous  error.  Knowing  these  things,  Merton  could 
not  believe  in  literal  inspiration ;  yet  he  could  see  no  reason 
for  doubting,  that  not  a  little  of  the  Bible  i.j  true  for  all 
people  and  time,  and  therefore  to  be  believed.  This  is  the 
truth  he  sought  to  find;  and  having  found  it,  to  set  it  forth 
in  all  his  preaching,  earnestly  and  without  fear.  But  in 
thus  subjecting  every  doctrine  to  the  discrimination  of  the 
reason,  Merton  could  not  save  himself  from  violating  the 
received  dogmas  of  the  church,  nor  from  falling  under  the 
ban  of  the  ecclesiastical  authorities. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

DIVINE   CONCEPTIONS. 

Aaodaixeiy  /xtv  irapeXi^aro  ixririera   Zevs, 
i}  5'  ereK    avrldeov  "Lapir-qobva — 
The    all-wise    god    Zeus    embraced    Laodamia,    and  she    con- 
ceived, and  brought  forth  the  divine  Sarpedon. 

[Homer:  Iliad,  vi,  igS.) 
Le  dieu  Bel  lui-meme  m'a  cree,  le  dieu  Marduk  qui  »ia  engendre,  a 
depose  lui-meme  le  germe  de  ma  vie  dans  le  sein  de  ma  mere — 

The  god  Bel  himself  created  me;    the  god   Marduk.  who  begot 
me,  deposited  the  germ  of  my  life  in  the  bosom  of  my  mother. 

(Babylonian  Inscription) 

'TPHE  Hon.  Mr.  Gray  was  very  ill,  and  not  expected  to 
recover.  He  was  a  member  of  Congress,  a  man  of  some 
means,  and  was  much  respected  by  those  acquainted  with 
him.  He  was  a  Scotchman,  and  possessed  that  candor  and 
open-heartedness  characteristic  of  his  race.  His  wife  was  a 
communicant  of  Merton's  parish;  and  she  wished  Merton  to 
visit  her  husband  as  frequently  as  possible.  Mr.  Gray  him- 
self, however,  was  not  a  member  of  the  church;  and  did  not 
believe  even  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul. 

It  was  a  beautiful  clay.  Merton  had  knelt  at  the  bedside 
of  the  sick  man,  in  earnest  prayer;  and  was  then  sitting  on 
a  chair,  engaged  in  conversation  with  Mr.  Gray. 

"Merton,"  said  the  sick  man,  "I  want  to  tell  you,  that 
Em., my  wife,  thinks  the  world  of  you,  and  that  I  like  you 
very  much.  I  like  your  sincerity,  admire  your  scholarship, 
and  greatly  esteem  your  candor.  Now,  you  must  not  feel 
offended  at  what  I  am  about  to  say.  I  like  you  to  visit  me; 
but  I  want  to  ask  you  not  to  offer  prayer  when  you  make 
your  visits — I  do  not  believe  in  prayer;  nor  do  I  believe 
that  after  death  a  man  continues  to  be.  I  know  you  are  ex- 
tremely liberal ;  but  you  have  not  arrived  -at  my  stand- 
point. Visit  me  whenever  you  are  able;  but  visit  me  like 
the  rest:  do  not  offer  prayer.  Man's  character  is  made  by 
work,    not    by  prayer;    and    to    pray    for    my    welfare 

after  death,  is  to  pray  for  that  which  will  have  ceased  to 

133 


234  FOOTPRINTS    OF    A   SOUL. 

be.  As  for  the  divinity  of  Christ,  and  the  Christian  dogmas 
in  general,  I  do  not  believe  they  are  worth  a  consideration.'' 
"My  dear  friend,  you  believe  in  God  as  much  as  I 
do,  and  therefore  have  a  right  to  pray.  God  is  not  the 
God  of  the  Christian  only,  but  also  of  all  those,  like  your- 
self, who  look  to  Him  for  help  and  strength.  And  as  a 
friend  and  counsellor,  I  have  the  right  to  pray  that  God,  our 
common  Father,  may  give  you  strength  to  stand  the  evils 
you  now  have  to  bear.  The  divinity  of  Christ  is  nothing  to 
me.  I  know  it  is  a  dogma  of  the  church,  that  never  has 
been  established.  But  the  existence  of  God  does  not  de- 
pend upon  the  divinity  of  Christ,  nor  any  other  dogma;  but 
it  is  the  acknowledgment  of  universal  humanity.  Man  as 
man  reaches  out  his  hands  after  the  hidden,  yet  everywhere 
present  and  felt,  Deity.  God  is  the  object  not  only  of  the 
Christian  heart,  but  of  the  heart  of  humanity.  It  is  as  nat- 
ural for  the  human  soul  to  turn  to  its  God,  as  for  the  flower 
to  turn  to  the  sun.  You,  therefore,  as  man,  not  as  a  Chris- 
tian, have  the  right  to  act  as  man,  and  lean  on  Him  who 
alone  can  give  you  strength  to  bear  your  present  evils;  and  I 
as  man,  not  as  a  Christian,  have  the  privilege  to  call  on  our 
common  Father  for  the  brother  that  I  have  upon  this  bed, 
in  so  great  distress.  As  a  believer  in  humanity,  I  pray  to 
God  for  you,  and  not  as  a  believer  in  the  dogmas  to  which 
you  refer.  But  if  you  do  not  believe  in  human  nature,  if 
you  believe  that  its  convictions  are  false,  then,  of  course,  it 
is  useless  for  me  to  point  you  to  it,  as  my  warrant  for 
prayer." 

"  Thank  you,  Merton,"  he  said;  "I  like  you,  like  to 
hear  you  talk.  But,  still,  when  you  come  to  see  me,  do  not 
pray.  I  prefer  that  you  should  come  as  any  other  friend. 
A  great  many  come  to  see  me,  and  I  want  you  to  come 
among  them,  as  they  come." 

But,    my    dear     friend,  to  do  what  you  say,  would  be  to 


DIVINE   CONCEPTIONS.  235 

disgrace  my  calling.  It  would  be  to  acknowledge  that  my 
life  is  that  of  a  humbug,  and  that  I  am  but  an  impostor. 
Now, I  consider  myself  a  true  man,  earnestly  believing  what 
I  preach.  Therefore  I  could  not  become  a  party  to  a  scheme 
which  actively  or  passively  acknowledges  that  I  am  acting 
the  part  of  a  mountebank.  Unless  you  permit  me  to  visit 
you  as  a  minister  of  God,  I  can  not  come  to  see  you;  for  I 
could  not  thus  deny  Him  who,  I  believe,  hath  sent  me." 

Merton  went  to  the  rectory,  and  wrote  him  a  long  letter 
in  which  he  set  forth  more  fully  the  reasons  why  he  could 
not  again  visit  him,  unless  he  could  be  received  as  a  minis- 
ter. This  letter,  as  Merton  was  afterwards  told  by  Mrs. 
Gray,  was  at  the  sick  man's  request  frequently  read  to  him, 
during  the  last  few  days  of  his  painful  life,  and  she  thought 
it  had  a  great  influence  over  him  for  good;  for  at  his  death, 
which  occurred  in  Washington,  D.  C. , a  short  time  after  Mer- 
ton wrote  him  the  letter, he  expressed  some  belief  in  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul,  and  the  hope  that  he  would  see  his 
family  again. 

While  Merton  considered  the  deity  of  Christ  to  be  an  un- 
provable dogma,  the  truth  of  the  fatherhood  of  God  he  be- 
lieved attested  by  the  whole  of  nature.  That  the  disciples  of 
Christ  declared,  and  believed  in, his  divinity,  Merton  saw  no 
reasonable  grounds  to  doubt ;  but  he  also  knew  that  many 
other  individuals  had  been  declared  divine  by  men  far  supe- 
rior in  ability  and  judgement  to  the  apostles  of  Christ,  and, 
yet,  that  no  one  to-day  thinks  for  a  moment  of  accepting 
their  testimony  as  proving  the  divine  nature  of  such  indi- 
viduals. Homer,  Hesiod,  Plato, Socrates,  and  many  others, 
assert  that  certain  men  were  divinely  begotten;  but  great 
as  these  writers  were,  we  can  but  smile  at  their  words. 
They  assert  that  certain  individuals  were  sons  of  God: 

"  Or<r0'    oSv     rives     Toiroiv     dyadol     /3ctcrt\ets     fjSav     M/ea>s     re     nai 

'Padd./j.avdvs     oi     Aids     kclI    Evpu>Trr)S     7rat5es,     <Sv    01  8      eicriv    01    vbfxoi. 

ov    yap  ec0'  o    ri   tovtov    dae^crrepdv  icxriv  oi)5    3 


236  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

Tf  %pr]    paXXov   euXafisiaffai,   tzAtjv    eis    tous    deous  xai    Xoyu>   xai 
epyvj   e^apapTaveiv,  deuTepov  d'eis  tous  deious  avOpomouS? 

That  as  divinely  begotten  beings,  some  of  them  were 
specially  instructed  by  God  himself  : 

"  Aeyei  yap  tov  Mivcov  auyyiyvedai  evaru)  ersi  tuj  Ah  ev  Xoyois 
xai  (poirav  Ttaideudyrro/ievov  cos  uizo  <jo<piaTou  ovtos  tou  Aios  .  .  . 
To  yap  A10S  ovra  itaida  povov  uizo  Aios  Tteizaideutrdai  oux  e%ei 
u7t£pi3o/.Y]v  enaivou." 

That  as  divinely  begotten  beings,  they  are  made  judges 
after  they  depart  this  life  : 

ct  Kai  tous  fisv  ex  ttjs  Aaias  'Padapavdus  xpivei,  tous  ^,  ex  ttjS 
EupwKTjS  Ataxos'  Mivoj  de  izpeapeia  daxjoj  emdiaxpivetv,  eav 
anopr/Tov  ti  tw  §Tep(o,  W  10S  dixaioTaTTj  c5j  xchtis  y  nepi  Trts 
izopeias  tois  avOpojTtoiS." 

That  as  divinely  begotten  beings,  sacrifices  are  due 
them  : 

"  £2  xpiTcov,  ecpr],  toj  AcrxlynHp  o<peikop.ev  aXexrpoovza.  aAA' 
aizodoTe  xai  p.t]  apekrjffrjTe." 

(Plato  :  Minos  xii,   xiii;   Georgias   lxxix;    Phaedo   lxvi.) 

"  Thou  shouldst  therefore  know  that  some  of  these  men 
were  good  kings,  as,  for  instance,  Minos  and  Rhadaman- 
thus  who  were  sons  of  God,  begotten  by  Europa,  and  who 
were  the  authors  of  the  laws  ;  for,  except  it  be  to  sin  against 
God,  nothing  is  more  base,  or  more  to  be  guarded  against, 
than  this, — to  sin  in  word  or  deed  against  divinely  begotten 
men." 

"  He  affirms  that  Minos  passed  nine  years  in  discourse 
with  God  ;    that  he  was  accustomed  to  visit  God  for  the 
purpose  of  receiving  instructions  from  him  as  if  God  were 
.a  wise  philosopher." 

"  The  fact  that  he  was  the  only  son  of  God  to  receive 
personal  instructions  from  God  himself,  confers  the  highest 
honors  on  Minos." 

"Those  coming  from  Asia,  Rhadamanthus  judges ;  those 


DIVINE    CONCEPTIONS.  237 

from  Europe,  Aeacus.  To  Minos,  because  of  his  dignity, 
I  will  assign  the  position  of  counsellor,  whenever  the  other 
two  are  at  a  loss  what  to  do,  in  order  that  the  judgment 
concerning  the  destiny  of  man,  may  be  as  righteous  as 
possible. ' ' 

' '  Crito, ' '  he  said,  '  'we  owe  a  cock  to  Asclepias.  Sacrifice 
it,  and  forget  it  not." 

Reading  these  lines,  Merton  could  not  fail  to  see  that 
other  persons  besides  Jesus  Christ,  have  been  called  sons 
of  God,  and  said  to  have  been  instructed  by  God  himself; 
that  as  Christ  is,  so  they  have  been,  held  to  have  the 
power  of  judgment  in  the  other  world,  and  to  be  proper 
objects  of  prayer  and  sacrifice.  So  fully  did  the  great  and 
pure-minded  Socrates  seem  to  believe  in  the  divine  nature 
of  such  beings,  that,  as  his  dying  injunction,  he  command- 
ed Crito  to  offer  in  sacrifice  to  Asclepias  the  cock  he  had 
vowed.  But  notwithstanding  the  greatness  and  wisdom 
of  such  writers,  the  reading  of  these  words  evokes  only  a 
laugh  to-day,  and  rightly  so.  It  seemed  to  Merton  that  a 
supernatural  act  could  be  proved  only  by  supernatural  evi- 
dence; and  as  all  indirect  or  written  evidence  must,  in  the 
very  nature  of  things,  be  natural,  and  the  deity  of  a  being 
could  not  be  established  except  by  supernatural  acts,  it 
seemed  to  him  that  the  deity  of  Christ  could  not  be  proved 
by  any  such  evidence  as  we  possess;  that,  therefore,  the 
only  way  to  prove  his  deity,  is  that  each  person  have  such 
direct  and  positive  evidence,  as  no  man  could  refuse  to  ac- 
cept. For  his  own  part,  Merton  was  obliged  to  confess 
that  he  had  never  received  such  evidence.  He  had  never 
witnessed  a  miracle;  therefore  he  could  not  possibly  say 
that  he  was  satisfied  with  the  evidence  he  had  of  Christ's 
divinity;  but  he  wished,  as  his  disciple,  to  make  himself 
and  others,  more  worthy  of  being  called  the  children  of  God. 

To  teach  the  deity  of  a  person,  is  to  teach  a  most  stu- 


238  FOOTPRINTS   OP  A  SOUL. 

pendous  miracle;  even  that  a  virgin  should  bring  forth  a 
son,  is  something  at  variance  with  all  the  known  laws  of 
nature.  Now,  the  two  grounds  of  probability  are  conform- 
ability  with  known  laws,  and  the  testimony  of  others. 
Where  the  event  in  question  is  contrary  to  human  experi- 
ence, in  the  words  of  Locke,  "the  most  untainted  credit  of 
a  witness  will  scarcely  be  able  to  find  belief."  But  in  the 
case  of  the  New  Testament  miracles,  it  is  much  worse  than 
this:  for  as  we  have  seen  from  Mill,  in  our  last  chapter, 
the  witnesses  to  these  reported  miracles  are  not  considered 
worthy  of  untainted  credit. 

Only  those  who  by  nature  are  sincere,  and  fill  a  posi- 
tion which  they  fear  may  be  false,  can  imagine  what  Mer- 
ton  used  to  suffer  in  those  days.  He  was  uncertain  what 
he  should  do.  He  loved  the  blessed  name  of  Jesus,  and 
would  not  knowingly  fail  to  give  him  all  the  honor  due 
his  most  beautiful  life;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  to  believe  in 
a  person  inhuman  shape  as  being  the  infinite  God,  when 
you  are  satisfied  that  the  person's  deity  has  never  been 
established,  seemed  to  Merton  a  most  dangerous  thing, 
and  to  border  on  idolatry  and  blasphemy. 

In  such  grave  doubts,  Merton  was  never  forgetful  to 
ask  God  for  help,  who  is  conscious  of  all  his  children's 
troubles,  and  ready  and  willing  to  help  them.  Indeed, 
Merton' s  very  breath  was  but  a  prayer  that  his  steps 
might  be  ordered  aright.  Again  and  again  would  he,  in 
the  dead  of  night,  reach  out  his  hands  to  God,  that  He 
should  take  them,  as  it  were,  saying:  "Lead  me,  O  my 
Father,  in  the  way  I  should  go.  Let  me  not  stray  from 
Thee.  Oh,  my  God,  be  Thou  my  friend  and  savior.  Give 
me  wisdom  to  understand,  and  courage  to  do,  the  right. 
Thou  wert  the  God  of  my  father.  He  trusted  in  Thee, 
and  Thou  didst  not  forsake  him.  So  let  me  see  thy  face, 
and  live.     Take  not  thy  Spirit  from  me,  lest  seeing  not  thy 


DIVINE    CONCEPTIONS.  239 

face,  I  die.  Thou  knowest  my  mental  troubles  and  deep 
anxieties.  Come  near  me,  I  pray  Thee.  Inspire  my  soul 
with  a  sense  and  love  of  the  truth.  Heal  my  wounded 
heart;  bind  up  my  broken  spirit;  encourage  my  despond- 
ing soul.  Hear  me,  my  Father,  for  I  am  in  great  distress. 
The  road  I  tread  is  dark.  L,et  the  light  of  thy  countenance 
fall  on  it  as  a  lantern  to  my  uncertain  feet.  Guide  me, 
Lord,  for  I  am  thine ;oh,  guide  me  for  thy  dear  name's  sake. ' ' 
Thus  did  Merton  live,  tossed  about  on  the  seas  of  doubt 
and  distress,  but  at  all  times  ready  to  lay  his  life  down  for 
the  truth,  if  only  satisfactory  proof  were  given  him  that 
he  possessed  it. 

"God  sends  his  teachers  unto  every  age, 

To  every  clime,  and  every  race  of  men, 

With  revelations  fitted  to  their  growth 

And  shape  of  mind,  nor  gives  the  realm  of  Truth 

Into  the  selfish  rule  of  one  sole  race. 

Therefore  each  form  of  worship  that  has  swayed 

The  life  of  man,  and  given  it  to  grasp 

The  master-key  of  knowledge — reverence — 

Infolds  some  gem  of  goodness  and  of  right; 

Else  never  had  the  eager  soul,  which  loathes 

The  slothful  down  of  pampered  ignorance, 

Found  in  it  even  a  moment's  fitful  rest." 

(Lowell.) 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE  JUDGE'S  STATEMENT   OF   THE   CASE. 

ovs  T^Kev    A(Ttv6xv  p-o.p6tvos  aidoir]  "  Ap-qi  Kparepip — 

Whom    the    adorable   virgin   Astyoche   brought  forth   to  the 
m'ght.y  g°d  Ares.     (Homer:  Iliad  it.  513.) 

\/f  R.  JUDEX  was  a  scholarly  man,  honest  in  his  con- 
victions, and  of  a  most  inquiring  mind.  He  had  come 
to  spend  the  evening  with  Merton.  It  was  a  very  cold 
night,  and  they  were  all  seated  around  the  big  heater, 
which  seemed  to  laugh  with  pleasure  at  every  new  supply 
of  maple  or  oak.  Mr.  Judex  had  been  brought  up  in  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church;  but  was,  at  the  time  of  making 
this  visit,  an  unbeliever. 

"My  father,"  he  said,  "intended  me  for  the  priesthood; 
but  after  acquiring  a  more  intimate  knowledge  of  the  lives 
of  the  priests,  and  a  somewhat  superficial  knowledge  of  the 
basis  of  the  dogmas  of  the  church,  I  refused  to  proceed 
with  my  studies  for  the  priesthood,  fell  first  into  doubt,  then 
into  so-called  infidelity.  There  is  no  body  of  men  who  are 
more  full  of  unbelief  than  the  educated  clergy  of  the  Ro- 
man Catholic  Church;  but  like  other  ministers  of  the  so- 
called  gospel,  they  perform  their  functions,  simply  as  a  gen- 
teel way  of  making  their  living.  Seeing  that  their  followers 
delight  in  humbug,  they  think  it  no  evil  to  supply  them 
with  this  means  of  pleasure,  especially  since  by  doing  so 
they  always  manage  to  keep  themselves  fat  and  in  good 
liking. 

"Previous  to  my  entrance  upon  a  course  of  study  for  the 
priesthood,  I  had  acted  for  a  long  time  as  priest's  boy;  and 

it  was  while  acting  in  this  capacity , that  I  first  began  to  doubt 

240 


THE  JUDGE'S   STATEMENT   OF   THE    CASE.  241 

the  sincerity  of  the  men  who  served  at  the  altar.  I  was  not 
long  at  my  studies  before  this  doubt  so  increased  that  I 
regarded  every  priest  I  met,  as  at  heart  a  knave.  I  found  it 
impossible  to  believe  that  any  man  of  average  intelligence 
could  attempt  to  maintain,  upon  so  shadowy  evidence,  such 
a  stupendous  cause.  This  may  have  been  an  extreme  view; 
but  as  I  look  back  upon  it  now,  I  do  not  think  it  far  astray. 
"  After  coming  to  the  United  States,  I  took  up  the  study 
of  the  law.  It  was  after  I  had  become  settled  in  my  pro- 
fession that  I  went  over  some  of  my  old  studies,  as  a  law- 
yer goes  over  his  case  ;  and  I  was  not  long  in  coming  to  the 
conclusion,  that  we  have  no  evidence  whatever  for  accepting 
one-tenth  of  the  dogmas  of  the  church,  and  none  whatever 
for  believing  in  the  reported  miracles  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. I  saw  plainly  enough  that  even  if  the  writers  believed 
what  they  reported,  it  is  no  satisfactory  evidence  of  the 
truth  of  their  reports;  for  in  like  manner  have  thousands 
reported  seeing  fairies  and  ghosts,  yet  such  reports  find  no 
acceptance  with  us  to-day.  Again,  we  all  say  the  sun  goes 
around  the  earth  instead  of  the  earth  going  around  the  sun; 
and  there  is  more  in  this  saying  than  we  are  apt  to  think. 
It  shows  for  a  certainty  that  there  was  a  time  when  people 
believed  it.  But  the  fact  that  such  a  belief  was  undoubtedly 
held,  is  no  reason  that  we  should  hold  it  to-day.  All  the 
reported  miracles  of  the  New  Testament  are  susceptible  of 
ready  explanation, — first,  on  the  ground  that  belief  in  miracles 
was  general,  during  the  age  in  which  the  reporters  lived  ; 
and,  second,  on  the  ground  that  those  who  wrote  the  ac- 
counts of  the  life  of  Christ,  invented  the  stories  about  the 
miracles,  as  in  their  judgment  being  necessary  to  the  credi- 
bility of  the  rest,  since  every  great  hero  was  expected  to 
perform  such.  The  story  about  the  divine  conception  is 
really  laughable,  and  would  cause  a  sensible  man  to  question 
the  character  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  did  he  not  know  that  such 


242  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

divine  conceptions  have  happened  in  the  world  a  great  num- 
ber of  times.  Any  man  who  had  become  great  in  the  eyes 
of  the  vulgar,  whether  a  warrior,  magician,  legislator,  or 
teacher,  would  surely  be  calendared  as  having  been  the 
result  of  a  divine  conception.  It  was  therefore  but  natural 
that  the  ignorant  followers  of  Christ  should  imagine  that 
he  had  been  divinely  conceived,  and  declare  it  to  their  disci- 
ples. But  it  is  preposterous  to  ask  any  man  of  common- 
sense  to  believe  in  such  divine  conceptions  to-day.  It  is  a 
good  thing  to  be  a  true  follower  of  Christ;  but  it  is  an  in- 
sult to  ask  me  as  a  pre-requisite  to  such  discipleship,  to 
accept  the  absurd  and  wicked  stories  about  his  divine 
descent.  I  am  not  certain,  indeed,  that  such  a  character  as 
Christ  ever  lived,  and  you  know  well  that  this  opinion  has 
been,  and  is,  shared  by  no  small  number  of  eminent  schol- 
ars; yet  I  am  willing  enough  to  assume  that  he  did  live, 
that  he  had  an  honest  mother  called  Mary,  and  an  honest 
father  called  Joseph,  that  he  grew  up  and  became  a 
great  reformer —  Socrates  as  it  were  arising  from  the  dead. 
I  am  willing  enough  to  suppose  that  such  a  person  as  Jesus 
lived;  that  he  was  born  as  others  are  born,  and  died  as 
many  others  have  died — a  martyr  for  the  truth.  But  more 
than  this  no  man  should  be  asked  to  believe,  who  knows 
any  thing  of  the  present  and  past  history  of  the  world ;  and 
more  than  this  I  for  my  part  do  not  believe.  I  insist  that  it 
is  no  less  absurd  to  believe  the  miraculous  stories  about  the 
person  of  Christ,  than  the  similar  ones  about  the  persons  of 
other  men — Buddha,  for  instance.  Indeed,  you  know  well 
that  some  of  the  most  eminent  thinkers  of  this  age  believe 
that  Jesus  is  no  more  nor  less  than  Buddha  somewhat 
transformed  to  suit  Jewish  tastes  and  notions;  that  all  the 
gospels  are  no  more  nor  less  than  the  stories  about  the 
birth,  life,  and  death  of  Buddha,  somewhat  modified  by 
time  and  place,  to  suit  the  reformed  Jewish  mind.     I  do  not 


THE  JUDGE'S   STATEMENT   OF   THE   CASE.  243 

know  that  this  supposition  is  true;  but  I  am  sure  there  must 
be  some  ground  upon  which  to  base  such  supposition,  or  it 
would  not  be  made  by  men  who  stand  second  to  none  in  the 
world;  for  an  eminently  good  and  wise  man  can  find  no 
pleasure  in  asserting  his  belief  in  a  conscious  falsehood.  I 
must  admit  that  the  analogy  between  the  birth,  life,  and 
death  of  Buddha,  and  the  birth,  life,  and  death  of  Jesus, 
seems  almost  exact;  and  it  is  by  no  means  impossible  that 
the  Buddhistic  traditions  floated  around  among  the  Jewish 
people,  clad  as  it  were  in  Jewish  clothing,  and  that,  in  due 
time,  they  assumed  the  form  they  have  in  our  present  gos- 
pels; for  it  would  be  an  easy  matter  to  change  the  name  of 
the  hero,  making  it  a  Jew  called  Jesus,  instead  of  an  Indian 
called  Buddha.  Look  at  the  analogy:  Buddha  was  born  of 
a  royal  and  virgin  mother,  so  was  Jesus;  Buddha's  advent 
was  announced  to  the  virgin  mother  by  a  mighty  angel,  so 
was  that  of  Jesus;  at  the  birth  of  Buddha  a  new  star  ap- 
peared in  the  east,  so  it  was  at  the  birth  of  Jesus;  wise  men 
brought  costly  offerings  from  afar  to  the  shrine  of  the  infant 
Buddha,  so  was  it  with  the  infant  Jesus;  at  seeing  the  infant 
Buddha  we  have  a  learned  priest  singing  a  nunc  dimittis, 
and  at  the  sight  of  the  infant  Jesus  we  have  Simeon  doing 
likewise,  and  both  declare  they  had  seen  the  promised  Mes- 
siah ;  when  it  was  known  that  Buddha  was  born,  a  wicked 
king,  fearing  him  as  a  future  rival,  sends  spies  after  the  boy, 
so  was  it  during  the  infancy  of  Jesus;  Buddha  is  one  day 
missed  by  his  parents  who  found  him  some  time  aftewards 
in  an  assembly  of  learned  Rishis,  surprising  them  with  his 
questions  and  answers;  so  likewise  was  Jesus  missed  by  his 
parents,  and  afterwards  discovered,  in  a  similar  manner, 
amazing  the  Jewish  doctors.  Buddha  had  a  fore-runner,  a 
herald;  so  had  Jesus.  Buddha  fasts  in  the  desert,  is  tempted 
by  the  prince  of  evil  spirits,  and  chooses  his  disciples; 
so  Jesus  fasts,  is  tempted  by  the  devil,  and  chooses  disciples. 


244  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

Buddha  had  a  beloved,  a  doubting,  and  a  traitorous  disci- 
ple, so  had  Jesus.  Buddha  compares  the  preacher  to  a 
sower,  his  gospel  to  a  mustard-seed,  false  preachers  to  blind- 
men  leading  the  blind,  a  repentant  sinner  to  a  returning 
prodigal;  so  did  Jesus.  At  Buddha's  death  the  earth  trem- 
bles, the  rocks  are  rent  asunder,  and  the  sainted  dead  leave 
their  graves;  so  is  it  at  the  death  of  Jesus.  The  Buddhistic 
church  has  convents,  several  orders  of  celibate  monks, 
ecumenical  councils,  and  an  infallible  pope  supported 
especially  by  the  priests  who  contribute  toward  his  support 
from  the  money  they  receive  for  reading  masses  for  the 
repose  of  departed  souls;  so  is  it  with  the  Christian  church. 
If  this  is  not  a  sufficiently  perfect  parallel,  I  know  not  what 
would  make  one. 

"  You  say  that  no  man  of  common-sense  believes  these 
absurd  stories  about  Buddha.  I  suppose  you  mean,  no 
man  of  common-sense  in  European  countries.  For  we 
know  that  there  are  hundreds  of  millions,  many  of  whom 
are  very  learned  men,  who  do  believe  these  stories,  and  are 
most  earnest  followers  of  Buddha  to-day.  I  am  sure  that 
no  man  with  common-sense  who  lives  blest  with  the  scien- 
tific knowledge  of  this  nineteenth  century,  believes  in  these 
Buddhistic  stories;  but  for  the  same  reason  he  denies  these, 
does  he  also  deny  those  concerning  Jesus.  Still,  a  person 
would  think  that  a  Buddhistic  priest  would  have  the 
advantage  over  the  Christian,  since  the  faith  of  the  former 
was  well  established,  and  very  widely  recognized,  before 
Christianity  was  known,  or  thought  of.  I  find  no  reason 
for  accepting  the  teachings  of  the  Buddhistic  church  con- 
cerning their  great  founder,  except  that  he  may  have  been, 
and  probably  was,  a  wise  and  great  man;  I  find  no  reason 
for  accepting  the  teachings  of  the  Christian  church  con- 
cerning their  great  founder,  except  that  he  may  have 
b*en,  and  probably  was,  a  wise  and  good  man.  The  Christian 


THE   JUDGE'S   STATEMENT   OP   THE   CASE.  245 

church  denies  the  claims  of  the    Buddhistic,   and    I   think 
rightly  so;  the  Buddhistic  church  denies  the   claims  of  the 
Christian,  and  I  think  with   equal  right.     As  no  evidence 
has  ever  been  adduced  upon  which  the  scientific  mind  can 
found    his    faith    in   the    miraculous  accounts  concerning- 
Buddha,    so   has   there   no   sufficient   evidence   ever  been 
adduced  upon  which  he  may  found  his  faith  in   the  miracu- 
lous accounts  concerning  Jesus.     The  weakness  of  the  one, 
is  the  weakness  of  the  other;  both  stand   upon  superstition, 
both  fall  in  the  presence  of  science.     Of  the  two  accounts 
there  is  but  little  preference  to  be  given  to  the  one  over  the 
other.     It  seems,  however,  that  the  Buddhistic  is  the  more 
acceptable,  absurd  and   impossible  as  it  is;    because  it   is 
easier  to   accept,  and  believe   in,   one  stupendous  miracle, 
than  in  a  multiplication  of  miracles.     But  each  account  is 
absurd,  rejected  by  science,  and   unsustained  by  any  evi- 
dence that  would  be  held  sufficient,  in  a  court  of  law,   to 
prove    I    had    sold    my   horse   to    my  next-door  neighbor. 
Taking  away  the  superstitious  element,  every  part  of  which 
is  the  laughing-stock  of  the  reasonable  man,  I  am  willing  to 
admit  the  superiority  of  the   Christian  system.     But  I   am 
not  willing  to  admit  that  the  Christian   system  is  superior 
because  of  the  supposed  superiority  of  its  reputed  founder, 
of  which  I  do  not  feel  certain;  but  rather  because  it   is  the 
religion  of  the  more  enlightened  nations  of  the  world,  who 
in  their  advancing  stages,  have  cast  off  from  their  religious 
faith  not  a  little  of  the  superstitious  element,  and,  no  doubt, 
will  yet  cast  off  the  balance.     Religion  is  a  central    fact  of 
man's  nature;  and  the  fact  that   it   is  so,   has   enabled   the 
priests  of  every  religion  to  play  upon  the   hopes   and  fears 
of   their  fellowmen,  as  a  cat  plays  with   a  mouse;   and   cer- 
tainly to  dupe  their  followers  more   than  any  lawyer  ever 
attempted  to  dupe  his  client,  or  mislead  the  jury.     When  1 
say  priests,  I  do  not  mean  exclusively  Christian  priests;  but 


246  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

I  mean  those  of  every  faith  and  cult.  There  surely  must 
be  a  truth  in  religion;  and  it  is  the  feeling  after  this  truth 
on  the  part  of  the  human  mind  and  heart,  that  has  enabled 
the  priests  to  foist,  for  their  own  benefit,  upon  their  re- 
spective followers,  the  mass  of  miracles  and  other  supersti- 
tions which  so  mar  the  beauty  of  the  central  truth,  as  to 
make  it  almost  invisible.  For  my  own  part,  I  have  long 
since  given  up  attending  church  services.  As  a  rule,  I 
never  go  at  all.  If  I  go,  I  go  more  for  the  sake  of  the  man, 
whom  I  may  wish  to  oblige  or  assist,  than  for  any  faith  I 
have  in  the  divine  character  or  even  usefulness  of  the 
church.  I  believe  in  a  Supreme  Power  who  is  made  visible 
bv  his  works;  and  that  seeing  his  works,  men  have  ever 
been,  and  probably  will  ever  be,  formulating  theories  about 
his  nature,  attributes,  how  He  created  the  world,  and  how 
He  leads  the  human  race  to  a  higher  and  better  life.  It 
seems  to  me  that  there  must  be  a  God  who  is  the  Creator, 
Savior,  Redeemer,  Sanctifier,  and  Father,  of  mankind;  and 
I  believe  that  man  should  endeavor,  according  to  the  best 
of  his  ability,  to  live  a  pure  and  righteous  life.  As  to  the 
question  of  immortality,  I  am  not,  and  never  expect  to  be, 
decided.  I  can  say  I  have  hope  in  it;  I  can  not  say  I  really 
believe  in  it.  It  has  never  been  proved,  I  am  certain,  that 
man  exists  after  death;  it  may  never  be  proved.  Still  I  can 
not  see  that  it  is  irrational  to  hope  for  a  future  life;  and  I 
therefore  hope  in  a  life  to  come.  I  am  called  by  many, 
foolish  for  indulging  in  such  a  hope;  but  for  my  part,  I 
shall  continue  to  remain  in  this  hope,  until  some  one  proves 
to  my  satisfaction  that  I  am  in  error.  It  costs  me  nothing, 
and  does  no  harm  to  anybody  else,  so  far  as  I  can  see. 
This  is  the  sum  total  of  my  religion,  Merton.  I  have  no 
less;  and  I  assure  you,  I  want  no  more." 


CHAPTER   XXV. 

THE  JUDGE'S   CONCLUSION. 

T(p  ' A<tk\7)wiu)  6<pel\o/Me!'  d\eKTpvoi>a — 

We  owe  in  sacrifice  a  cock  to  Asclepias 

{Plato:  Phaedo,  I  xvi,  //<?,  ij.) 

HpHE  night  was  extremely  cold;  the  heavens  clear;  the 
stars  shining  brightly ;  and  the  frost  seeking  to  pene- 
trate every  crevice  in  the  parsonage.  Merton  determined  to 
retire  early;  and  to  that  end  knelt,  with  his  little  family,  in 
prayer. 

"O  merciful  Father,"  he  said,  "direct  onr  uncertain 
feet.  Strengthen  our  minds  to  know  thy  will, and  our  hearts 
to  do  it.  Fill  us,  O  God,  with  thyself  that,  our  souls  being 
purified  by  thy  most  glorious  presence,  our  thoughts  may 
rise  clean  and  pure,  as  water  from  the  living,  limpid  spring. 
Take  not  thy  holy  presence  from  us,  O  merciful  Father. 
Dark  is  the  way  and  chilly  the  night.  Lighten  our  paths, 
and  warm  our  hearts,  O  God  of  our  fathers.  Look  in  pity 
on  the  dear  little  babes  Thou  hast  given  us,  and  on  the 
mother  whom  Thou  hast  so  greatly  honored,  in  permitting 
her  to  give  them  life.  Oh,  let  our  lives  be  precious  in  thy 
sight.  From  Thee  nothing  is  hidden,  to  Thee  all  is  appar- 
ent; and  on  Thee  we  hang  as  a  babe  on  its  mother's  breast. 
Hungry,  Lord,  we  cry  to  Thee  for  food;  thirsty,  we  come 
to  Thee  for  drink;  weary,  we  come  to  Thee  for  rest.  Feed 
us,  merciful  Father,  with  the  bread  of  heaven ;  assuage  our 
thirst  with  the  waters  of  life;  lift  up  the  light  of  thy  coun- 
tenance upon  us,  and  give  us  peace,  for  thy  name's  sake." 
It  was  at  this  instant  that  Mr. Judex  knocked  at  the  door: 
"I  am  come  up,"  he  said,  "to  renew  our  religious  dis- 
cussion." "With  your  religion,  Judge,"  replied 
Merton,   "I    have    no   complaint;    but    surely,    in  judg- 

■247 


248  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL,. 

ing  every  priest  you  meet  as  a  knave,  or  as  false  at  heart, 
you  do  some  of  them  a  great  injustice  ?" 

"  Perhaps  I  do,  Merton;  but  I  think,  as  a  whole,  my 
judgment  is  correct.  I  am  fully  satisfied  that  ten  out  of 
any  average  eleven  priests  I  may  chance  to  meet,  would  re- 
ceive a  righteous  judgment." 

"  But,  Mr.  Judex,  do  you  not  as  a  lawyer  frequently  say, 
that  it  is  better  to  let  ten  guilty  men  escape  than  punish  one 
innocent  man  ?" 

"Yes,  Merton;  and  that  is  the  spirit  of  the  law.  Be- 
sides, I  think  it  a  wise  and  safe  principle  to  act  upon." 

"  So  do  I,  Mr.  Judex;  but  in  conformity  with  this 
principle,  would  it  not  be  better  to  judge  the  next  eleven 
priests  you  may  chance  to  meet,  as  innocent  men,  thereby 
letting  ten  guilty  ones  escape,  than  judge  them  all  as 
knaves,  thereby  accusing  one  innocent  man  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  consider  the  cases  exactly  parallel,  Merton. 
In  the  law  we  have  to  do  with  a  world  perfectly  known  to 
us  all,  and  with  courts  of  justice,  and  juries,  before  which 
we  ourselves  may  at  any  time  be  brought.  I  hold  there  is 
nothing  like  this  in  the  church:  nothing  there  is  positively 
known;  all  has  to  be  taken  on  faith;  and  the  whole  faith, 
when  accepted,  goes  to  the  fattening  of  the  priests  who  are 
wolves  in  sheep's  clothing.  In  the  law  there  is  perfect  im- 
partiality. If  we  would  rather  let  ten  guilty  men  escape 
than  punish  one  innocent  man,  it  is  because  we  ourselves 
to-morrow  might  need  the  benefit  we  offer  another  to-day. 
In  the  one  case  the  principle  is  acted  upon  for  the  safety 
and  well-being  of  the  citizens  as  a  whole,  living  in  a  well 
known  world;  in  the  other  case  it  would  be  acted  upon  for 
the  safety  and  well-being  of  the  priests  who,  in  return  for 
such  privileges,  can  offer  their  dubious  teachings  about  a 
world  that  no  living  being  knows  anything  about,  except 
the  priests,  and  many  of  them  are  honest  enough   to  admit 


THE  JUDGE'S    CONCLUSION.  249 

their  utter  ignorance.  I  insist  the  cases  are  not  parallel. 
In  the  law  the  principle  acts  with  regard  to  all  alike;  in  the 
church  it  would  act  especially,  if  not  exclusively,  for  the 
benefit  of  the  ecclesiastics.  Again,  I  am  not  certain  that  the 
priests  as  a  class  do  really  add  to  the  elevation  of  the 
world.  That  they  do,  I  think  is  fairly  to  be  questioned. 
Indeed,  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  their  work  ought  to 
be  abated  as  a  nuisance.  Because  of  this  I  do  not  think 
that  they  are  worthy  of  the  benefit  of  a  doubt.  You  may 
say  that  you  are  certain  they  do  accomplish  good  in  many 
ways.  All  right;  no  one  denies  it.  But  are  you  certain 
they  do  not  accomplish  more  harm  in  other  ways  ?  This  is 
the  question.  I  hold  that  the  work  of  the  priest  produces 
as  much  harm  as  good;  and  I  believe  it  produces  more." 

"  Mr.  Judex,  did  you  not  say  some  time  ago,  that  re- 
ligion is  a  central  part  of  man's  nature  ?  " 

"  Yes,    Mertoii,    I  did." 

"  Can  anything  be  more  vital  to  one's  interest  than  the 
well-being  of  a  central  part  of  his  nature  ?  " 

"  I  presume  not." 

"  Is  it  not  necessary  to  the  well-being  of  a  central  part  of 
man's  nature,  that  such  central  part  be  guided  aright,  as  it 
is  developing  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  Who  is  it  that  guides  this  central  part  except  the 
priests  ?  " 

"The  priests  are  the  reputed  guides:  but  I  hold  they  are 
blind-guides  leading  the  blind." 

"  That  is  not  the  question,  Mr.  judex.  The  question  is, 
whose  duty  is  it,  to  whom  is  the  work  regarded  as  belonging, 
to  guide  this  central  part  of  man's  nature  ?  " 

"  Well,  of  course,  it  is  regarded  as  belonging  to  the 
priests;  but  I  think  it  might  be  better  developed  without 
them.     It  couldn't  be  much  worse  than  it  is." 


250  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

"  If  anything  be  essential  to  man's  happiness,  would  you 
not  admit  that  that  something  should  be  taken  cognizance 
of  by  the  state  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  that  whatever  is  essential  to  one's  happiness, 
should  be  regarded  as  an  object  of  the  watchful  care  of  the 
state." 

"  Well,  then,  Mr.  Judex,  if  you  admit  that  religion  is  an 
essential  part  of  man's  nature;  that  its  proper  guidance  is 
essential  to  man's  happiness;  that  whatever  is  essential  to 
man's  happiness,  is  a  proper  object  of  the  watchful  care  of 
the  state;  and  that  the  guidance  of  this  central  part  of  man's 
nature,  is  generally  regarded  in  the  state  as  belonging  to 
the  priestly  order, —  do  you  not  thereby  admit  that  priests 
are  proper  objects  of  the  watchful  care  of  the  state  ? " 

"  Well,  as  you  put  it,  I  guess  I  do." 

"  If  then,  Mr.  Judex,  priests  are  proper  objects  of  the 
watchful  care  of  the  state,  by  what  can  they  be  guarded 
except  by  the  law  of  the  state  ?" 

"  I  presume  if  the  state  doesn't  protect  them,  nothing 
else  will  ;  for  St.  Joseph  and  the  Virgin  Mary  won't  do  it." 

"  But,  Mr.  Judex,  if  the  priests,  as  you  say,  are  to  be 
guarded  by  the  laws  of  the  state,  would  it  not  be  according 
to  law,  to  treat  them  as  you  treat  the  rest  of  the  citizens,  and 
give  them  the  benefit  of  a  doubt." 

"  Supposing  I  admit  that,  what  then  ?" 

"  It  seems  to  me,  Mr.  Judex,  it  would  follow  that  you 
should  regard  the  next  eleven  priests  you  may  chance  to 
meet,  as  you  would  regard  any  other  eleven  citizens  of  the 
state,  and  suppose  them  all  innocent  men,  even  if  by  so  doing 
you  let  ten  guilty  knaves  escape,  rather  than  suppose  them 
all  guilty,  and  thereby  possibly  accuse  one  innocent  priest." 

"You  are  good  at  splitting  hairs,  Merton.  You  may 
have  made  your  point,  but  you  have  not  changed  my  mind  a 
particle  in  regard  to  priests  as  a  whole." 


THE  JUDGE'S   CONCLUSION.  25 1 

"  Mr.  Judex,  you  must  not  suppose  that  I  have  any  too 
high  regard  for  priests.  I  assure  you  my  experience  has  led 
me  to  think  of  them  as  anything  else  but  gods.  But  they 
are  a  class  of  men  we  find  existing  in  the  world,  and  in  the 
state,  as  far  back  as  our  knowledge  extends  ;  and  even  when 
real  knowledge  of  their  existence  fades  away,  there  are  still 
traces  left  of  the  presence  of  priests,  or  medicine-men." 

"  Then  you  class  priests  with  medicine-men,  do  you,  Mr. 
Merton?" 

"  Their  work  is  certainly  similar,  Mr.  Judex,  although  as 
classes  the  two  have  become  differentiated.  You  might  say 
that  medicine-men  are  infant  priests,  or  that  the  both  bodies 
are  sub-orders  of  the  same  order." 

''Well,  Merton,  with  your  definition  of  a  priest,  I  think 
I  can  afford  to  give  the  poor  brute  the  benefit  of  a  doubt.  I 
will  have  in  mind  your  definition,  when  I  see  the  next  priest 
entering  on  his  incantations." 

"  All  right,  sir  ;  that  is  all  I  ask.  I  can  now  talk  with 
you,  and  believe  that  you  regard  me  as  a  sincere  man,  and 
that  you  will  continue  so  to  regard  me,  until  you  have  posi- 
tive knowledge  that  I  am  not.  You  have  sometimes  come 
to  the  services,  since  I  have  been  here  ;  and  as  you  come 
in  the  future,  I  should  certainly  feel  very  uncomfortable  to 
look  into  your  face,  did  I  think  in  my  heart  that  you  thought 
me  insincere.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  I  have  spoken  as  I 
have,  that  I  might  lead  you  to  admit  what  you  have 
admitted." 

"  I  do  not  think  that  anybody,  in  this  town,  could  regard 
you  as  insincere.  You  are  too  out-spoken  for  that.  If  one 
thing  more  than  another  has  brought  me  to  hear  you  preach, 
it  is  my  belief  that  you  in  heart  and  soul  are  sincere.  But 
you  must  not  forget,  that  you  do  not  preach  as  others  do  ; 
your  doctrine  is  radically  different.  If  it  were  not  so,  I 
would  not  come  to  hear  you,  however  sincere  you  might  be; 


252  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUIy. 

for  I  should  then  regard  you  as  a  sincere  dupe  ;  and  with 
such  I  have  lost  too  much  time  already." 

"  Do  not  forget,  Mr.  Judex,  that  the  next  eleven  priests 
you  meet,  are  to  be  treated,  as  you  treat  other  men." 

"  I  have  already  promised  you,  Merton,  I  will  give  the 
poor  wretches  the  benefit  of  a  doubt." 

"  What  you  have  said  of  Buddha,  Mr.  Judex,  is  highly 
interesting.  I  have  not  much  to  say  with  regard  to  it,  except 
that  I  have  no  faith  whatever  in  the  divine  nature  of  the 
great  teacher.  I  do  not  say,  however,  that  he  may  not  have 
come  into  the  world  with  a  mission  to  perform,  nor  do  I 
deny  that  he  may  have  performed  it  rightly  and  wisely, 
under  the  guidance  of  God.  I  think  this  is  possible.  And 
I  am  also  willing  to  admit,  that  I  can  not  see  on  what  ground 
the  Christian  priest  expects  to  preach  the  divinity  of  Christ 
to  the  Buddhists,  if  he  refuses  the  proof  the  Buddhist  priest 
adduces  for  the  divinity  of  Buddha.  It  does  appear  to  me 
that  in  character  and  value  the  evidence  adduced  to  prove 
the  divinity  of  the  one,  is  similar  to  that  adduced  to  prove 
the  divinity  of  the  other.  I  candidly  believe  that,  were  I  a 
Buddhist,  the  Christian  priests  would  find  it  impossible,  to 
make  me  believe  in  the  divinity  of  Christ,  on  the  evidence 
they  adduce  in  support  of  it." 

"  Then  you  do  not  believe  in  the  divinity  of  Christ,  as  I 
understand,  Mr.  Merton." 

"I  can  not  say,  Mr.  Judex,  that  I  really  disbelieve  in 
Christ's  divinity  ;  but  I  must  say  that  I  feel  quite  uncertain, 
quite  unsatisfied,  concerning  it.  And  I  believe  with  my 
whole  soul,  from  my  knowledge  of  priests,  that  the  pulpits 
are  full  of  men  who  feel  unsatisfied  as  to  Christ's  divinity  ; 
and  I  am  certain  that  there  always  have  been  very  earnest 
and  learned  followers  of  Christ,  who  have  refused  to  accept 
his  divinity,  or  regard  him  in  any  other  light  than  as  a  man 
with  a  divine  commission.    I  can  not  but  admit  with  you  that 


THE   JUDGE  S    CONCLUSION.  253 

the  miracles  of  the  New  Testament  are  unsubstantiated. 
Indeed,  I  do  not  believe  it  possible  to  substantiate  a  miracle 
with  any  less  than  direct  and  miraculous  evidence.  As  to 
the  internal  evidence  of  the  New  Testament  for  Christ's 
divinity,  I  can  not  see  how  it  can  be  satisfactory.  How  do 
we  know  that  a  mere  man  could  not  have  produced  the  pre- 
cepts of  the  New  Testament  ?  If  the  mind  of  a  mere  man  is 
capable  of  understanding  these  precepts,  it  would  seem  to 
follow  that  the  mind  of  a  mere  man  might  have  been  their 
author.  But  more  than  this,  I  can  not  find  any  principle  in 
the  New  Testament,  radically  different  from  those  found 
elsewhere.  It  is  true,  that  certain  principles  are  more 
enlarged  upon,  brought  more  to  the  light  ;  but  nothing  can 
be  found  in  the  New  Testament  radically  new.  In  other 
words,  all  the  principles  of  the  New  Testament  have  cer- 
tainly been  produced  by  human  authors,  because  they  are 
known  to  have  been  current  long  before  Christianity  was 
established.  The  fatherhood  of  God,  rewards  and  punish- 
ments, immortality,  heaven  and  hell,  prayer  and  sacrifice, 
priest  and  temple,  penitence  and  divine  forgiveness,  the 
sanctifying  power  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  the  duty  of  man  to 
man  and  to  God, —  all  these  principles  were  taught  long 
before  the  advent  of  Christ,  and  by  people  other  than  the 
so-called  elect.  I  do  not  believe,  therefore,  it  is  possible  to 
prove  conclusively  the  divinity  of  Christ  from  the  contents 
of  the  New  Testament,  nor  by  miracles  except  by  direct  and 
miraculous  evidence.  But  although  I  do  not  believe  that 
the  divinity  of  Christ  has  ever  been  established,  I  am  un- 
willing to  say  that  Christ  is  not  divine;  I  simply  say  his 
divine  nature  has  never  been  proved." 

"  When  you  speak,  Merton,  of  the  fact  that  the  divine 
nature  of  Christ  has  never  been  established,  I  can  not  help 
thinking  how  false  the  position  of  the  minister  is,  and  how 
greatly  he  misrepresents  the  truth  of  things.     If  a  man  says 


254  FOOTPRINTS   OP  A  SOUL. 

he  has  never  seen  any  proof  of  Christ's  divinity,  the  average 
minister's  reply  is,  '  That,  sir,  was  given  to  the  apostles  long 
ago,  and  we  have  their  testimony  for  it.'     I  reply  that  the 
people  who  lived  contemporaneously  with  Christ,  did  not 
believe  in  his  divinity.     This  fact  is  proved   to  a  certainty 
from  the  fact  that  they  put  him  to   death.     What   man  that 
ever  lived,  or  ever  may  live,  would  attempt  to  put  a  being  to 
death,  believing  him  at  the  same  time  to  be   God  ?     Jesus 
Christ  was  accused   of  blasphemy.     This  accusation,  how- 
ever unjustly  founded,  proves  the  case  that  his  accusers  did 
not  believe  in  his  divinity.     The  minister  says,  '  His  divin- 
ity  was   proved   through    certain    select   men.'     I   answer, 
what  a  shame  to  use  such   beggarly    language  !     Was   the 
God  of  the  universe  so  weak  that  He  could  not  satisfy  his 
children's   rational   demands  ?     Does  God   desire   that  his 
children  should  worship  every  being  declaring  himself  to  be 
God  ?     Now  a   man   must  either  worship  or   not  worship 
every  such  being;  and  since  to  worship  a  being  in   human 
form,  or  any  other  form,  who  is   not   really   God,  would  be 
a  most  grievous  sin,  I  hold  it  would  be  an   offence   against 
the  majesty  of  God,  to  worship  any  being  declaring  himself 
to  be  God,  unless  the  man  asked  to  worship  him,  be  given 
such  proof  of  his  divine  nature,  as  he  can  not  doubt.     This 
is  all  the  people  asked   who   lived   contemporaneously  with 
Christ.     Did  they  receive  such  proof  of  Christ's  divinity  ? 
It  is  wicked  to  say  they  did,  when  it  is  admitted  that  Christ 
was  put  to  death;  and  that  even  his  own  disciples,  through 
fear,  fled   from  his  side,   and  with  oaths    denied   him.     It 
seems  to  me  Celsus,  even  from  the  garbled  account  we  have 
of  his  work,  would  make  shorter  work  of  the  ministers  of  to- 
day, than  he  made  of  the  ministers  who  lived  at  the  time  of 
his  writing.     I  am  sure  that  neither  Jew  nor  Gentile  would 
have  crucified  Christ,   if  he   had   been  satisfied   of  Christ's 
divine  nature.     Who  would  dare  lay  his  hands  upon  whom 


THE  JUDGE'S   CONCLUSION.  255 

he  believed  to  be  the  infinite  God  ?  Says  Celsus,  the  Jew, 
writing  in  the  second  century,  and  admitted  by  Origen  to 
have  been  a  learned  man:  '  How  should  we  deem  him  to  be 
God,  who  not  only  in  other  respects,  as  was  currently  re- 
ported, performed  none  of  his  promises,  but  who  also,  after 
we  had  convicted  him,  and  condemned  him  as  deserving  of 
punishment,  was  found  guilty  of  attempting  to  conceal  him- 
self, and  endeavoring  to  escape  in  a  most  disgraceful 
manner,  and  who  was  betrayed  by  those  whom  he  called 
disciples.  He  who  was  God  could  neither  flee  nor  be  led 
away  prisoner.  He  who  was  a  partaker  at  a  man's  table, 
would  not  conspire  against  him;  and  if  he  would  not  con- 
spire against  a  man,  much  less  would  he  plot  against  a 
God,  after  banqueting  with  him.  And,  which  is  still  more 
absurd,  God  himself  conspired  against  those  who  sat  at  his 
table,  by  converting  them  into  traitors  and  impious  men. 
What  great  deeds  did  Jesus  perform  as  being  God,  having 
gained  no  one  over  during  his  life,  not  even  his  own  dis- 
ciples, underwent  those  punishments  and  suffering?  By 
what  train  of  argument  were  you  led  to  regard  him  as  the 
Son  of  God?  If  Jesus  desired  to  show  that  his  power  was 
really  divine,  he  ought  to  have  appeared  to  those  who  ill- 
treated  him,  and  to  him  who  had  condemned  him,  and  to 
all  men  universally.  While  alive  he  was  of  no  assistance  to 
himself,  but  when  dead  he  arose  again,  and  showed  the 
marks  of  his  punishment,  and  how  his  hands  were  pierced 
with  nails.  Who  beheld  this  ?  A  half-frantic  woman,  as 
you  state,  and  some  other  one,  perhaps,  of  those  who  were 
engaged  in  the  same  system  of  delusion,  who  had  either 
dreamed  so,  owing  to  a  peculiar  state  of  the  mind,  or  under 
the  influence  of  a  wandering  imagination,  had  formed  to 
himself  an  appearance  according  to  his  own  wishes,  which 
has  been  the  case  with  numberless  individuals;  or,  which 
is  most  probable,  one  who  desired  to   impress  others  with 


256  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUI,. 

this  portent,  and  by  such  falsehood  to  furnish  an  occasion 
to  impostors  like  himself.  From  such  signs  and  misrepre- 
sentations, and  from  proofs  so  mean,  no  one  could  prove 
him  to  be  God,  and  the  Son  of  God.  The  disciples  of 
Jesus,  having  no  undoubted  fact  upon  which  to  rely,  de- 
vised the  fiction  that  he  foreknew  everything  before  it  hap- 
pened. And  certain  Christians  have  corrupted  the  Gospel 
from  its  original  purity  to  a  threefold,  and  fourfold,  and 
many-fold  degree,  and  have  remodelled  it,  so  that  they 
might  be  able  to  answer  objections.  Even  although  guilty 
of  falsehood,  ye  have  not  been  able  to  give  a  color  of  cred- 
ibility to  your  inventions.'  Don't  misjudge  me,  Mr.  Mer- 
ton:  I  love  the  name  of  Jesus,  and  believe  he  was  a 
blessed  man,  a  loving  brother,  a  faithful  teacher,  and  one 
worthy  to  be  a  leader  of  men;  but  I  do  not  believe  that  he 
was  God,  or  that  he  ever  claimed  to  be,  however  much  he 
may  have  been  understood  as  making  such  claim.  It  also 
seems  that  most  of  the  objections  of  Celsus,  the  learned 
Jew,  are  valid  ones.  They  are  just  such  as  a  learned  man, 
in  my  opinion,  would  make  to-day.  I  say  nothing  deroga- 
tory of  the  character  of  Christ;  but  I  say  what  Celsus  said, 
and  which  I  think  Christ  would  say  :  if  a  man  wishes  to 
show  that  he  is  God,  he  must  prove  his  divine  nature  uni- 
versally, and  by  such  miraculous  works,  as  can  not  leave 
room  for  doubt.  I  may  be  called  a  heretic,  but  that  is 
nothing  to  me;  so  was  Christ,  so  was  Socrates.  Even 
Origen,  the  very  man  who  undertook  to  answer  Celsus,  and 
who  was  undoubtedly  the  most  learned  of  all  the  early 
Christians,  was  called  a  heretic,  and,  in  the  year  231,  de- 
graded from  the  priesthood,  and  excommunicated  by  the 
bishop  of  Alexandria,  and  never  afterwards  restored.  So 
if  I  am  called  a  heretic,  I  shall  find  myself  in  the  best  of 
company.     But  speaking  with  regard  to  yourself,     Merton, 


THE   JUDGE'S    CONCLUSION.  257 

does  not  your  church  hold  the  divinity  of  Christ  as  one  of 
its  fundamental  dogmas  ?  " 

"  I  believe  it  does,  Mr.  Judex.  In  my  teaching  I  do  not 
deny  the  divinity  of  Christ ;  but  I  am  inclined  to  make  little 
of  such  a  dogma,  by  magnifying  others  far  more  important." 
"The  teaching  of  the  church,  Merton,  about  the  divin- 
ity of  Christ,  is  insulting  to  the  mind  of  man.  What  man, 
do  you  suppose,  would  refuse  to  believe  what  God  declares, 
if  he  were  sure  that  God  declares  it  ?  And  if  God  declares 
his  will  in  a  way  which  makes  it  uncertain  to  man,  man  cer- 
tainly can  not  be  blamed  for  not  believing  it.  But  since  I 
can  not  believe  that  anything  faulty  ever  came  from  God,  I 
do  not  believe  that  God  ever  gave  such  unsatisfactory  proof 
as  we  have  for  the  divinity  of  Christ ;  nor  do  I  believe  that 
a  thing  having  so  unsatisfactory  credentials,  as  the  New 
Testament  has,  could  ever  come  directly  from  God." 

"  If  the  doubts  I  now  have,  Mr.  Judex,  ever  grow  into  a 
positive  conviction  that  Christ  is  not  God,  I  will  give  up  the 
work  I  am  now  engaged  in  ;  but  until  then  I  can  not  see  but 
that  I  should  go  on,  and  do  as  Christ  did, —  not  talk  of  his 
divinity,  but  lead  men  to  a  better  and  purer  life,  and  to  God. 
as  the  fountain  of  all  goodness  and  truth.  I  am  like  you, 
much  dissatisfied  with  the  proof  we  have  of  Christ's  divine- 
conception,  unsatisfied  with  the  proof  of  the  so-called  vir 
ginity  of  his  mother  ;  and  it  seems  to  me  the  probability 
against  these  things,  can  never  be  overcome  by  such 
evidence  as  we  have  in  our  possession.  Still,  I  think  it  is 
right  enough  to  call  his  mother  a  virgin,  since  every  pure 
mother  may  be  so  called  ;  and  as  the  mother  of  our  great 
leader,  I  see  no  impropriety  in  styling  her,  the  Virgin  Mary. 
In  the  New  Testament,  even  pure  men  are  called  virgins. 
So  I  can  say,  '  Born  of  the  Virgin  Mary,'  since  I  undoubt- 
edly believe  that  Christ  had,  at  least,  a  pure  mother  called 
Mary,  the   lawful   wife  of  an   honest  father.     But  while  I 


258  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

believe  this  much  of  Christ, of  anything  more  I  am  in  doubt. 
You  will  understand  me  therefore:  I  do  not  deny  Christ's 
divine  nature;  I  do  declare  I  feel  uncertain  of  it.  When 
you  see  me  in  the  services,  and  hear  me  preach,  I  only  ask 
that  you  believe  you  see  and  hear  an  honest,  earnest  soul 
who  would  lay  his  life  down  for  what  he  was  sure  was  God's 
truth.  While  I  am  with  you,  I  hope  you  will  help  me 
build  up  men  in  a  wise  and  rational  faith,  one  that  shall 
lead  to  a  better  and  higher  life. ' ' 

"I  shall  certainly  do  what  I  can  to  help  you,  Mr.  Mer- 
ton;  I  am  only  sorry  I  can't  do  more." 

''Strength  comes  to  us,  my  dear  Mr.  Judex,  as  we  put 
into  action  the  strength  we  have: 

'•Hat  man   Viel,  so  wird  man  bald 
Noch  viel  Mehr  dazu  bekommcn. 
Wer  nur  Wcnig  hat,  Dctn  wird 
Anch  das  Wenige  genommen?  "  , 

{Heine.) 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

HUSK   AND    KERNEL. 

What  is  the  chaff  to  the  wheat?  saith  the  Lord. 

{Jeremiah  xxiii.  28.) 

i  i  \/[R-  MERTON,  I  greatly  appreciated  your  sermon," 
said  banker  Pomposity,  "on  the  Miraculous  in 
Christianity.  It  was  a  treat  to  me, and  to  all  who  were  pres- 
ent, last  Sunday  evening.  It  is  a  rare  thing,  if  not  a  start- 
ling one, to  find  a  minister  who  admits  the  truths  of  science. 
I  myself  have  long  since  stood  where  you  now  stand. 
Every  one  that  has  any  knowledge  of  the  matter  at  all, 
knows  well  enough  that  whatever  occurs,  whether  now  or 
in  times  past,  is  the  result  of  law  and  established  order. 
In  order  to  believe  in  the  immaculate  conception  of  Christ, 
I  must  conclude  that  man  is  not  man,  that  woman  is  not 
woman,  and  that  God  is  not  immutable  but  self-contradic- 
tory; and  all  this  must  I  believe  on  the  authority  of  a  few 
pages  of  writing  not  much  less  uncertain  or  untrustworthy 
than  the  Arabian  Nights.  It  offends  me  greatly  that  any 
minister,  through  ignorance  or  fear,  should  dare  preach 
such  stuff  in  the  presence  of  the  average  congregation.  I 
am  sure  that  if  Jesus  Christ  wasn't  the  son  of  his  mother's 
husband , he  must  have  been  illegitimate  born ;  and  this  latter 
I  do  not  believe.  That  the  ignorant  followers  of  Jesus  might 
possibly  have  believed  in  his  divine  conception,  is  no  reason 
whatever  that  I  should  believe  in  it;  for  in  like  manner  were 
the  founders  of  many  other  religions  supposed  to  have  been 
divinely  conceived.  Indeed,  in  early  days  immaculate 
conceptions  were  common;  for  it  was  nothing  unusual  for 

gods  to  have  union  with  women.    The  world  has  been  full 

259 


260  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

of  incarnations  of  deity.  It  is,  therefore,  nothing  strange 
that  the  founder  of  Christianity  should  have  been  regarded 
as  an  incarnate  god,  or  that  foolish  people  should  so  regard 
him  to-day.  Such  belief  I  have  long  ago  given  to  the 
wind,  with  the  whale  that  swallowed  Jonah,  and  the  sun 
that  stood  still  at  the  command  of  Joshua.  In  the  name  of 
common-sense,  I  hope  to  hear  you  speak  of  something  far 
different  ;  and  judging  from  what  I  heard  last  Sunday,  1 
should  say  my  hopes  are  well  founded.  There  is  enough 
to  talk  about,  when  the  fables  are  left  out." 

"The  great  majority  of  Christian  people,  Mr.  Pomposity, 
do  not  agree  with  you  ;  and  it  is  hard  to  cast  to  the  wind, 
though  they  are  but  chaff,  the  dogmas  which  the  average 
member  of  the  church  regards  as  the  very  foundation  of  all 
his  hopes.  I  have  but  little,  if  any,  faith  in  miracles,  no 
matter  by  whom  they  may  be  said  to  have  been  performed  ; 
but  in  this  matter  I  am  clearly  in  advance  of  the  great 
majority  of  ministers  ;  and  this  fact  makes  my  position  a 
trying  one.  It  is  true  I  find  sufficient  in  Christianity  to 
speak  about,  after  I  leave  out  the  legions  of  devils,  its  fall 
of  man,  its  divine  conceptions,  its  story  of  creation,  the 
golden  streets  of  its  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  the  smoke  of 
the  torment  of  its  hell  ;  but  only  the  better  educated  of  the 
ministry  agree  with  me  in  this  matter,  and  most  of  them 
prefer  not  to  disturb  existing  belief.  To  do  so  they  know 
is  to  expose  themselves  to  the  murmurings  of  the  ignorant 
portions  of  their  congregations,  and  to  the  vengeance  of 
their  bishops  whose  power  and  prestige  depend  largely  on 
the  faithful  reception  of  the  monstrous  fables  of  Chris- 
tianity. You  are  not  saved  by  belief  in  the  immaculate 
conception  ;  but  rather  by  living  as  he  lived,  who  is  said  to 
have  been  immaculately  conceived.  I  am  not  able  to 
accept  the  doctrine  that  I  am  saved  by  believing  that  Jesus 
is  the  Most  High  ;  rather  do  I  firmly  believe  that  I  am 


HUSK    AND     KERNEL.  26 1 

saved  by  doing  as  Jesus  did.  He  who  lives  as  Jesus  lived, 
will  surely  receive  of  that  Strength  which  made  Jesus  so 
strong.  It  is  not  by  faith  in  Kreeshna,  Jahve,  Christ,  or 
Allah  that  a  man  is  saved,  for  surely  devils  believe  and 
tremble;  but  it  is  by  doing  the  will  of  Him  who  sent  us, 
that  you  and  I  are  called  the  children  of  God  ;  and  the  will 
of  him  who  sent  us,  is  to  do  with  our  might  what  we  believe 
in  our  heart  we  should  do.  Thus  living,  we  may  make  a 
mistake  ;  but  no  other  rule  is  near  so  sure  to  gauge  cor- 
rectly the  measure  of  our  moral  responsibility.  He  who 
lives  up  to  it,  whatever  he  thinks  of  the  peculiar  dogmas  of 
Christianity,  is  surely  on  his  way  to  a  better  life." 

"  Merton,  you  mentioned  the  name  of  Kreeshna.  What 
is  taught  concerning  this  mythical  personage?" 

"  Kreeshna,  Mr.  Pomposity,  is  one  of  the  Brahminical 
names  for  the  incarnate  Deity.  He  is  said  in  their  sacred 
books  to  have  dwelt  on  earth  in  mortal  form,  and  thus  to 
have  delivered  from  his  own  lips  to  his  chosen  disciples  the 
will  of  the  infinite  God.  This  name  for  the  incarnate  Deity 
more  especially  appears  in  the  sacred  book  called  the  Bha- 
gavadgita,  a  work  which  Sir  Warren  Hastings  pronounced  of 
the  greatest  originality,  sublime  conception,  reason  and  dic- 
tion; as  containing  a  theology  corresponding  with  that  of 
the  Christian  dispensation,  and  most  powerfully  illustrating 
its  fundamental  principles.  It  is  the  real  bible  of  the  Brah- 
mins, and  is  believed  by  them  to  contain  all  the  sacred  mys- 
teries of  their  religion,  delivered  by  the  mouth  of  God  him- 
self. It  stands  hugely  in  the  fotm  of  a  dialogue  wherein 
the  chief  speaker  is  Kreeshna,  the  incarnate  God.  It  every- 
where teaches  the  unity  of  God  who  is  represented  as  the 
Universal  Soul  immanent  in  all  things.  Concerning  immortal- 
ity it  says:  'Asa  man  throweth  away  old  garments,  and 
putteth  on  new,  even  so  the  soul,  having  quitted  its  mortal 
frames,  entereth  into  others  which  are  new.     The  weapon 


262  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUI,. 

divideth  it  not,  the  fire  burneth  it  not,  the  water  corrupt- 
eth  it  not,  the  wind  drieth  it  not  away:  it  is  eternal, 
universal,  permanent,  indivisible,  inconsumable,  incor- 
ruptible, and  is  not  to  be  dried  away.'  Concerning 
our  duty  it  says :  '  Be  free  from  duplicity,  and  stand 
firm  in  the  path  of  truth,  and  turn  thy  mind  to  things 
which  are  spiritual.  Be  not  one  whose  motives  for  action  is 
the  hope  of  reward.  Let  not  thy  life  be  spent  in  inaction. 
Depend  upon  application,  perform  thy  duty,  and  abandon 
all  thoughts  of  the  consequence.'  Whatever  we  may  think 
of  the  origin  of  the  Bhagavaclgita,  much  of  its  teachings  are 
certainly  sublime." 

"  Did  this  Kreeshna,  Merton,  call  himself  God  ?  " 
"  He  is  certainly  represented  as  doing  so,  Mr.  Pompos- 
ity. In  speaking  of  himself  he  says:  'Although  in  my  nat- 
ure I  am  not  subject  to  birth  or  decay,  and  am  the  Lord  of 
all  creation,  yet,  having  command  over  my  own  nature,  I  am 
made  evident  by  my  own  power.  Thus  I  appear  from  age 
to  age,  for  the  preservation  of  the  just,  the  destruction  of 
the  wicked,  and  the  establishment  of  virtue.  Mankind  was 
created  by  me.  Know  me  then  to  be  the  creator  of  mankind, 
uncreated  and  without  decay.  He  who  beholdeth  me  in  all 
things,  and  beholdeth  all  things  in  me,  I  forsake  not  him, 
and  he  forsaketh  not  me.  The  man  who  believeth  in  unity, 
and  worshippeth  me  present  in  all  things,  dwelleth  in  me  in 
all  respects,  even  whilst  he  liveth.  All  things  hang  on  me 
even  as  precious  stones  hang  upon  a  string.  I  am  dear  to  the 
wise  man,  and  he  is  dear  to  me.  I  am  the  holy  one  worthy 
to  be  known.  I  am  the  comforter  and  the  creator.  I  am 
the  same  to  all  mankind.  They  who  serve  me  with  adora- 
tion, I  am  in  them,  and  they  in  me.  I  am  the  creator  of  all 
things,  and  from  me  all  things  proceed.'  These  words 
spoke  Kreeshna  of  himself,  Mr.  Pomposity,  and  thus  speaks 
Arjoon  of  him,  his  favorite  disciple:    'I   behold,   O   God! 


HUSK   AND     KERNEL.  263 

within  thy  breast,  the  Dews  assembled,  and  every  spe- 
cific tribe  of  beings.  O  universal  Lord,  form  of  the  uni- 
verse !  Thou  art  the  Supreme  Being,  incorruptible,  and 
worthy  to  be  known.  Have  mercy  then,  O  God  of  Gods  ! 
thou  mansion  of  the  universe !  Reverence  be  unto  thee,  O 
thou  who  art  all  in  all !    Infinite  is  thy  power  and  thy  glory.' 

"  Concerning  what  the  good  man  may  expect  after  death, 
the  Bhagavadgita  says:  'No  man  who  hath  done  good, 
goeth  to  an  evil  place.'  The  Bhagavadgita  is  truly  a  won- 
derful work,  and  one  which  had  been  in  existence  many 
hundreds  of  years,  when  Christianity  was  first  .introduced; 
and  its  contents  are  conclusive  proof  that  God  is  no  re- 
specter of  persons,  and  that  He  is  not  far  from  any  of  us." 

"  Do  you  believe,  then,  Merton,  that  the  book  you  refer 
to,  is  a  revelation  from  God  ?  " 

"  In  one  sense,  yes,  sir;  in  another  sense,  no.  I  believe 
in  the  words  of  Zoroaster: 

"  '  Toy  8s  vosi  7zas  vous  Oeov,  ou  yap  aneu 
Nous  sffTi  voyjtou,  y.at  to  votjtov  ou  vou  yiopis  bicapvei, 
Ovo/xara  fiapfiapa  firjitar'  aXla:rts, 
Eifft  yap  vvop.ara  -ap'  lexa.GTOtS  Oeoffdora. — 

"'But  every  mind  knoweth  God;  for  the  mind  is 
not  without  the  Intelligible,  neither  is  the  Intelligible 
without  the  mind.  Never  change  barbarous  names,  for 
there  are  names  given  from  God  in  every  nation.' 

"  While  I  believe  no  book  is  a  direct  revelation  from  God, 
I  yet  believe  that  the  fundamental  and  universal  principles 
of  religions  are  true,  and  that  they  are  the  natural  result  of 
the  Universal  Spirit  dwelling  in  man  as  a  part  of  creation. 
In  this  sense  does  every  sacred  book  contain  some  eternal 
truth,  some  revelation.  In  other  words,  they  are  revelations, 
as  any  other  part  of  nature  is  a  revelation,  no  more,  and  no 
less." 

"  I  have  noticed,    Merton,    that  there  are  many  things  in 


264  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL,. 

nature  hurtful  rather  than  beneficial.  In  every  flower-gar- 
den there  are  weeds,  in  every  field  of  wheat  there  are  fre- 
quently many  destructive  insects.  So  if  those  religious 
principles  are  simply  a  result  of  nature,  they  may  be  false." 

"  The  weeds,  sir,  to  which  you  refer,  would  not  have  re- 
ceived your  notice,  were  there  not  flowers  to  be  injured  by 
their  presence;  and  you  would  never  seek  to  kill  the  insects, 
were  there  no  precious  wheat  to  be  destroyed.  So  in  relig- 
ious principles:  if  the  destructive  is  there,  so  is  the  useful; 
if  the  weeds  are  there,  so  are  the  flowers.  The  wheat  and 
the  flowers  are  those  universal  and  eternal  principles 
of  religions,  which  the  various  faiths  of  the  world  em- 
body, and  set  forth;  the  weeds  and  the  insects  are  those 
differentiating  principles  of  religious  faiths,  concern- 
ing which  the  judgments  of  their  respective  adherents 
are  so  contradictory.  Or  the  flowers  and  the  wheat 
are  those  principles  of  religions  that  bind  the  different  peo- 
ples of  the  world  together  in  theological  unity,  while  the 
weeds  and  the  insects  are  those  religious  principles  that 
set  the  different  peoples  of  the  world  at  theological  va- 
riance. I  would  say,  root  up  the  weeds  that  the  flowers  may 
emit  still  greater  fragrance;  destroy  the  insects  that  the  poor 
may  have  more  bread  to  eat." 

"  Might  we  not  regard  the  various  phases  of  religion,  and 
even  their  contradictory  tenets,  as  the  outcome  of  different 
civilizations  ?  If  so,  would  it  be  wise  to  destroy  what  you. 
have  said  ?  " 

"  I  would  not  say,  destroy  such,  Mr.  Pomposity  ;  but  I 
would  say,  never  regard  those  peculiarities  of  the  various 
human  natures  and  civilizations  as  essential  to  true  religion, 
or  to  true  and  saving  faith  in  God.  Even  the  same  plant 
will  vary,  when  planted  in  various  climates;  and  less  we  can 
not  expect  of  human  nature,  as  it  everywhere  strives  to  per- 
fect its  character.     We  may  permit  the  modifications  as  use- 


HUSK   AND    KERNEL.  265 

ful  variations,  but  we  must  deny  that  the  variation  of  one 
faith  must  be  assumed  by  the  others.  When  I  say,  destroy 
the  variations  of  the  religious  idea,  I  only  mean  that  we 
should  destroy  the  spirit  which  regards  the  idea  as  dependent 
on  the  variation,  and  that  we  should  cease  to  think  of  the 
religion  of  one  people,  as  necessary  to  the  well-being  and 
happiness  of  another.  The  true  God  of  one  people,  is  the 
true  God  of  all ;  and  the  many  gods  of  the  various  peoples," 
is  the  true  God  of  none." 

':  I  am  glad  to  hear  such  liberal  sentiments,  Merton,  and 
I  hope  you  will  be  brave  enough  to  declare  them.  I  am 
sick  of  hearing  long-winded  sermons  on  ancient  myths,  when 
there  is  such  valuable  matter  all  around  us  to  base  what  we 
have  to  say  on." 

"  I  am  not  much  given  to  hide  the  thoughts  of  my  heart, 
Mr.  Pomposity;  but  this  same  open,  mindedness  may  bring  on 
me  the  ire  of  my  bishop.  Already  he  has  written,  praying 
me  to  be  true  to  the  faith.  Our  bishop  is  a  good  man,  and 
I  like  him  ;  but  he  has  less  cause  for  listening  to  the  voice 
of  reason,  and  more  for  remaining  in  the  house  of  bondage, 
than  I  have." 

"  I  have  no  place  for  the  bishop,  Merton.  It  is  ridic- 
ulous to  see  his  nonsense  in  the  chancel.  His  bowings  and 
genuflections  are  more  than  I  can  stand.  He  believes  in  the 
middle-ao-es.  I  doubt  he  knows  the  world  moves.  Such  ac- 
tions  in  the  chancel  may  be  pleasing  to  some  ;  but,  for  my 
part,  they  appear  obscene.  I  have  never  been  confirmed, 
but  I  am  not  sorry  ;  for  it  seems  to  me,  the  further  one  is 
from  the  chancel,  the  better  it  is  for  his  stomach's  sake." 

"  I  have  always  loved  the  chancel,  Mr.  Pomposity,  and  I 
love  the  holy  communion.  In  that  holy  sacrament,  the  idea 
of  blood  atonement  has  wholly  passed  from  my  mind.  If  it 
be  true  that  Christ  instituted  it,  I  doubt  not  that  it  was  sym- 
bolic of  the  offering  up  of  himself  as  a  sacrifice  for  the 


266  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 


truth,  as  he  understood  it.  And  if  he  commanded  that  we 
should  do  likewise,  it  was  that  we,  his  followers,  should  de- 
note by  that  act  our  consecration  to  a  noble  life,  and  our 
willingness  to  die  for  what  we  believe  to  be  the  truth.  It  is 
not  the  offering  up  of  Christ,  that  the  holy  communion 
shows  forth  ;  but  rather  the  offering  up  of  ourselves,  our 
souls  and  bodies,  unto  God.  So  the  value  of  the  sacrament 
is  not  the  offering  up  of  Christ,  but  the  offering  up  of  the 
body  and  soul  of  the  communicant.  You  and  I  can  do  this 
act  at  any  time  ;  and,  surely,  it  is  but  our  bounden  duty. 
While  I  live,  I  wish  to  hold  myself  ever  ready  to  die  for  the 
truth.  Such  a  life  is  a  living  sacrifice,  and  one  well-pleasing 
to  God.  The  sacrament,  therefore,  is  not  representative  of 
a  myth  ;  but  it  shows  forth  a  real  fact,  that  I  then  and  there 
offer  myself  unto  God,  a  living  sacrifice.  Such  an  act  is  a 
noble  one,  and  well  calculated  to  strengthen  the  soul  to  live 
a  pure  and  righteous  life." 

"  That  is  all  very  beautiful,  Merton;  but  the  worst  is 
that  the  church  doesn't  agree  with  you  in  this  matter.  The 
church  says  :  '  Almighty  God,  our  heavenly  Father,  who  of 
thy  tender  mercies  didst  give  thine  only  Son  Jesus  Christ  to 
suffer  death  upon  the  cross  for  our  redemption  ;  who  made 
there  a  full,  perfect,  and  sufficient  sacrifice,  oblation,  and 
satisfaction,  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world  ;  and  did  insti- 
tute, and  in  his  holy  Gospel  command  us  to  continue,  a  per- 
petual memory  of  that  his  precious  death,  until  his  coming 
again  ;  Hear  us,  O  merciful  Father,  we  most  humbly  be- 
seech thee  ;  and  grant  that  we  receiving  these  thy  creatures 
of  bread  and  wine,  according  to  thy  Son  our  Savior  Jesus 
Christ's  holy  institution,  in  remembrance  of  his  death  and 
passion,  may  be  partakers  of  his  most'  blessed  body  and 
blood.'  Besides  when  the  communicant  receives  the  ele- 
ments from  the  hands  of  the  priest,  he  is  distinctly  reminded, 
in  the  most  solemn  words,  that  it  is  the  body  and  blood  of 


HUSK   AND   KERNEL.  267 

Christ  which  he  takes.  It  is  not  ourselves  that  is  offered 
in  the  holy  communion,  Mr.  Merton,  according  to  the 
church;  but  that  sacrament  is  representative  of  the  obla- 
tion of  Jesus  Christ,  who  we  are  told,  offered  himself  up 
once  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world.  This  doctrine  I  do 
not  believe,  nor  can  any  sensible  man.  It  is  an  unreason- 
able, unjust,  and  bloody  doctrine.  It  might  be  acceptable 
to  anthropophagists,  but  it  cannot  be  to  thinking  men. 
No,  I  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  such  an  absurd  and 
nature-contradicting  rite.  If  your  idea  were  that  of  the 
church,  I  could  accept  it,  and  would  try  to  be  worthy  of 
participating  in  such  a  sacrament;  but  I  shall  have  to  wait 
some  time  before  your  interpretation  will  prevail.  May 
the  time  hasten  when  such  a  rational  doctrine  will  be  ac- 
cepted. I  see  you're  impatient  to  go,  and  my  business 
demands  my  presence.  Our  conversation  must  cease  for 
the  present.  In  parting,  let  me  say  to  you,  take  good 
care  of  Mrs.  Merton.  She  looks  like  a  flower  blooming 
for  another  world,  and  we  want  her  here.  The  gods,  you 
know,  never  gather  unripe  fruit : 

iAber  cure  Hand  bricht  unreif  nie 
die  goldnen  Himmelsfrucchtc?  " 

{Goethe:  Iph.au/Tauris.) 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

DISCUSSION   OF   A    PRIEST   AND   A    WARDEN. 

Kal  Ka\6v  ye  rb  k\4os  vie?  re  Aids  /xd\a  wpiwov — 
Such  honor  is  both  beautiful  and  proper  for  a  son  of  God. 

(Pla/o:  Leges  1.623.) 

TN  every  parish  there  are  men  who,  in  common,  priestly 
language, are  called  dead  branches.  They  have  been  bap- 
tized and  confirmed,  or  by  some  form  or  other  admitted  to 
full  membership;  but  little  by  little  falling  off  from  church 
attendance,  they  finally  fail  to  attend  at  all.  Again,  there 
are  multitudes  of  men  who,  although  they  have  long  since 
lost  all  faith  in  the  church,  and  desire  to  remain  away  from 
attendance,  nevertheless  keep  up  their  church-going,  not 
having  sufficient  courage  to  sever  their  relations,  fearing  a 
loss  of  social  prestige.  Some,  however,  have  the  courage  to 
act  according  to  their  convictions;  and  ministers  find  it 
much  more  difficult  to  bring  such  back  to  their  allegiance, 
than  to  add  new  members  to  the  fold. 

Mr.  Morse  was  a  college  graduate,  had  been  a  warden 
of  the  parish,  had  lost  faith  in  church  dogmas,  and  had  the 
courage  to  act  accordingly.  Said  he,  one  Sunday  evening 
after  services: 

'  'I  have  but  little  faith,  Mr.  Merton,  in  the  doctrines  of 
Christianity.  I  have  scarcely  attended  services  for  years. 
Since  you  have  been  here,  I  have  come  pretty  regularly; 
but  just  as  soon  as  you  are  gone,  I  shall  fall  back  again 
into  my  old  place  of  indifference.  I  have  a  contempt  for 
the  average  minister.  It  is  shocking  to  hear  their  contra- 
dictions; insulting  to  hear  their  maledictions  against  those 
who  refuse  to  believe  in  their  nature-subverting  assertions. 
Who  can  believe,  for  instance,  that  a  being  in  human  shape 

is  the  infinite  God  of  the  universe!     I  declare  that  it  is 

268 


A   PRIEST   AND   A   WARDEN.  269 

absolutely  impossible  for  a  reasonable  man  to  believe  such 
absurdity,  as  the  dogma  about  the  deity  of  Christ." 

"  I  do  not  believe,  myself,  Mr.  Morse,  that  Jesus  Christ 
was  God.  There  have  been,  and  are,  men  who  are  rela- 
tively very  pure.  Like  a  mirror,  they  seem  to  reflect  the 
image  of  what  the  good  man  might  suppose  God  to  be. 
Such  were  Zoroaster,  Buddha,  Confucius,  Mencius,  Mar- 
cus Aurelius,  Socrates,  Plato,  Aristotle,  Jesus  Christ,  and 
many  others;  and  it  is  possible,  though  by  no  means  cer- 
tain, that  Jesus  Christ  remains  the  greatest  of  all  the  great. 
In  this  sense,  and  in  this  sense  only,  can  I  believe  that  Jesus 
Christ  was  divine.  In  one  sense  all  things  are  divine;  for 
nature  in  its  entirety  flows  out  from  God,  as  light  from  the 
sun.  Nature  itself  is  an  emanation  from  Deity.  Reason 
can  conceive  a  being  in  human  shape  permeated  as  it  were 
with  the  Universal  Spirit,  as  a  sponge  in  the  ocean  is  per- 
meated with  water;  but  it  can  not  conceive  the  ocean  as 
contained  in  the  sponge,  nor  a  man  as  containing  God.  If 
the  Universal  and  Infinite  Spirit  was  not  contained  in  the 
human  body  of  Christ,  then,  as  the  sponge  would  not  con- 
tain the  sea,  so  was  Christ  not  God.  As  permeated  with 
God,  he  might  have  been  divine;  as  a  sponge  permeated 
with  water,  would  be  watery.  But  as  the  sponge  contained 
in  the  ocean,  can  not  be  the  ocean  which  contains  it;  so  the 
finite,  limited,  human  body  of  Christ,  contained  in  the  uni- 
verse, could  not  have  contained  the  Universal  Being  which 
contained  him.  As  of  others,  so  of  Christ;  divinity  is  pre- 
dicate, but  deity  is  unthinkable,  and  absurd.  It  is  impos- 
sible for  an  intelligent  man  to  conceive  of  a  place  where 
God  is  not:  it  is  impossible  that  God  should  not  fill  the 
whole;  impossible  that  the  whole  of  existence  should  not 
be  contained  in  Him;  impossible  that  He  should  be  less 
than  infinite.  It  is,  therefore,  impossible  that  God  should 
be  bounded,  or  outlined,  or  have  any  conceivable  form;  and, 


27O  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

therefore,  it  is  absurd  to  think  of  the  unbounded,  formless, 
infinite  Deity  as  being  contained  in  the  bounded,  definitely 
formed  body  of  Christ.  And  if  God  was  not  contained  in 
the  body  of  Christ,  then  was  Christ  not  God.  It  is  philo- 
sophically possible  that  Christ  was  full  of  deity;  but  that 
no  more  makes  Christ  God,  than  the  fulness  of  the  sponge 
with  water,  makes  the  sponge  the  ocean.  It  is  possible, 
therefore,  that  Christ  was  in  God;  but  it  is  impossible  that 
God  was  in  Christ.  Or  you  might  say,  as  the  sub-genus 
vertebrata  is  manifested  in  the  class  mammalia,  so  may  God 
have  been  manifested  in  Christ;  but  as  the  sub-genus  ver- 
tebrata is  not  wholly  contained  in  the  class  mammalia,  so  was 
it  not  possible  for  God  to  have  been  contained  in  Christ." 

"  Although  I  have  never  attempted  to  give  definite 
shape  to  my  thought  on  the  subject,  Merton,  I  find  it 
impossible  to  believe  that  Christ  was  the  infinite  God.  But 
have  we  reason  for  believing  that  he  was  so  full  of  deity  as 
to  be  absolutely  infallible  ?  " 

"  In  answer  to  your  question,  Mr.  Morse,  it  is  certain 
that  the  proof  of  such  infallibility  being  in  Christ,  may  be 
looked  for  in  only  three  directions,—  his  miraculous  person, 
his  miraculous  works,  and  his  superhuman  teaching.  If  we 
examine  the  evidence  for  the  miraculous  personality  of 
Christ,  we  are  unable  to  escape  the  logical  conclusion,  that 
even  though  divinity  may  have  been  claimed  for  him,  this 
claim  can  prove  nothing,  since  similar  claims  had,  and  have 
been,  made  for  the  miraculous  personality  and  divine  nature 
of  many  others.  According  to  eastern  theology,  the  High- 
est Spirit  has  manifested  himself  in  human  form,  at  various 
times;  of  these  forms  Vishnu  is  but  one.  Says  the  Svetas- 
vatara-Upanishad:  'That  incarnate  Self,  according  to  his 
own  qualities,  chooses  many  shapes,  coarse  or  subtile,  and 
having  himself  caused  a  union  with  them,  he  is  seen  as 
another  and  another,  through  the  qualities  of  his  acts,  and 


A   PRIEST   AND    A   WARDEN. 


271 


through  the  qualities  of  his  body.'  And  says  Spencer: 
'  The  Dharma  Raja  is  looked  upon  by  the  Bhotanese  in  the 
same  light  as  the  Grand  Lama  of  Thibet  is  viewed  by  his 
subjects, —  namely,  as  a  perpetual  incarnation  of  the  Deity, 
or  Buddha  himself.'  And  every  one  knows  that  the  writ- 
ings of  antiquity  are  full  of  theophanies.  If  we  compare 
the  accounts  of  the  births  of  Aesculapius,  Hercules,  and 
Jesus  Christ,  we  shall  find  a  striking  similarity: 


Hercules. 
'  The  lay  records  the  labors 

and  the  praise, 
And  all  the  immortal  acts 

of  Hercules. 
First,    how     the     mighty 

babe  when  swathed  in 

bands. 
The  serpent  strangled  with 

his  infant  hands  : 
Then     as     in     years    and 

matchless      force     he 

grew, 
The  Oechalian   walls,  and 

Trojan  overthrew. 
Besides  a   thousand   haz- 
ards they  relate, 
Procured    by    Juno's  and 

Euristheus'  hate. 
Thy     hands,    unconquered 

lie!  11,  could  subdue 
The   cloud-born    Centaurs 

and  the  monster  crew; 
Nor  thy  resistless  arm  the 

Bull  withstood; 
Nor  he,  the  roaring  terror 

of  the  wood. 
The    triple    porter  of  the 

Stj  gian  teat, 
With     lolling    tongue    lay 

fawnh  g  at  thy  feet, 
And,     seized     with    fear, 

forgot    the     mangled 

meat. 
The  infernal  waters  trem- 
bled at  thy  sight ; 
Thee,  God,  no  face  of  dan- 
ger could  affright, 
Nor  huge  Typhpus,  nor  the 

unnumbered  snake, 
Increased     with      hissing 

heads  in  Lerna's  lake.' 


Aesculapius. 

'Once  as  the  sacred  in- 
fant she  surveyed. 

The  God  was  kindled  in 
the  raving  maid; 

And  thus  she  uttered  her 
prophetic  tale: 

Hail,  great  physician  of 
the  world,  all  hail  ! 

Hail,  mighty  infant,  who 
in  years  to  come 

Shall  heal  the  nations, 
and  defraud  the  tomb! 

Swift  be  thy  growth,  thy 
triumphs   unconfim  d  ; 

Make  kingdoms  thicker, 
and  increase  mankind. 

Thy  dariDg  art  shall  ani- 
mate the  dead, 

And  draw  the  1  bunder  on 
thy  guilty  head; 

Then  shalt  thou  die,  but 
from  thy  dark  abode 

Shalt  rise  victorious,  and 
be  twice  a  God.' 


Jesus  Christ. 

Ye  nymphs  of  Solyma  be- 
gin the  song  ! 

O  thou  my  voii  e  inspire, 
that  touched  Isaiah's 
hallowed  lips  wiili  Are; 

Rapt  into  future  times, 
the  bard  began: 

A  virgin  shall  conceive,  a 
virgin  bear  a  son. 

Swift  fly  the  year.-,  and 
rise  the  expected 
morn, 

O  spring  to  light  !  auspi- 
cious babe,  be  born. 

He  from  thick  films  shall 
purge  the  visual  ray, 

And  on  the  sightless  eye- 
ball pour  the  day; 

'Tis  he  the  obstrue'ed 
p;it lis  of  sound  shall 
clear. 

And  bid  new  music  charm 
the  unfolding  ear. 

The  dumb  shall  sing,  the 
lame  his  crutch  fore- 
Ro, 

And  leap  exulting  like  the 
bounding  roe." 


"Is  it  not  strange,  my  friend,  that  the  people  should 
have  generally  believed  in  the  divinity  of  such  persons  ?  " 
"It  is  very  strange,  Mr.  Morse,  that  Christians,  knowing 


272  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

the  facts  as  they  do,  could  ever  allege  such  general  belief 
concerning  Christ;  for  nothing  is  more  evident  than  that 
Christ's  divinity  was  not  generally  accepted  by  his  contempo  • 
raries.  Of  this  we  need  no  further  proof  than  the  facts  of 
his  friendlessness,  his  trial,  and  his  shameful  crucifixion; 
but  other  proof  may  be  had  from  the  many  stories  which 
became  current,  either  during  the  life  of  Christ,  or  shortly 
after  his  death.  In  the  Gospel  of  Nicodemus,  the  whole 
multitude  are  represented  as  charging  Christ  with  illegiti- 
macy; and  Celsus  introduces  a  Jew  as  accusing  Christ  of 
having  invented  the  story  of  his  birth  from  a  virgin.  Mary, 
he  says,  the  mother  of  Jesus,  having  been  convicted  of  the 
crime  of  adultery  with  a  soldier  called  Pandera,  was  driven 
from  the  house  of  her  husband,  and  for  some  time  wan- 
dered heedlessly  about,  until  she  brought  forth  her  illegiti- 
mate son  who  was  afterwards  educated  in  Egypt.  I  do  not 
like  to  mention  these  stories.  I  believe  that  Jesus  Christ 
was  pure,  holy,  and  noble;  that  he  was  in  birth,  and  in  life, 
in  every  way  fitted  to  be  what  he  was  —  a  leader  and 
savior  of  men;  but  I  do  not  believe  that  he  was  God.  The 
same  reasons  which  Christians  adduce  to  disprove  the 
divine  character  of  Aesculapius  and  Hercules,  and  of  other 
so-called  divinely  begotten  beings,  may  certainly  be 
adduced  to  disprove  the  deity  of  Jesus  Christ. 

"  Being  compelled  to  believe  that  we  have  no  sufficient 
evidence  for  belief  in  the  reputedly  miraculous  personality 
of  Christ,  can  we  say  we  have  conclusive  proof  of  his 
reputedly  miraculous  works  ?  In  considering  this  question, 
it  will  be  conceded  that  the  improbability  of  miracles  is 
very  great;  and  that,  therefore,  the  evidence  necessary  to 
substantiate  them  must  be  correspondingly  great,  or  most 
clear  and  conclusive.  If  a  miracle  is  not  impossible,  it  is 
certainly  highly  improbable  for  the  following  reasons: 

1:     It  is  contrary  to  the  ordinary  operations  of  nature; 


A    PRIEST    AMD    A   WARDEN.  273 

2:     Divine   partiality  and  injustice  appear  inseparably 
connected  with  it; 

3:     It  takes  a  miracle  to  prove  a  miracle. 

"  Since  the  miracles  of  the  New  Testament  are  held  to 
have  been  performed  for  the  purpose  of  proving  the  charac- 
ter and  mission  of  the  miracle-worker,  it  seems  impossible 
that  the  Divine  Being  could  have  performed  such  works, 
without  being  chargeable  with  injustice  and  partiality. 
For  one  person  has  no  more  right  than  another  to  have  his 
doubts  removed  by  supernatural  evidence;  and  if  one  per- 
son more  than  another  be  vouchsafed  such  miraculous  evi- 
dence, it  seems  that  God  would  incur  the  charge  of  partial . 
ity  and  injustice. 

"If  a  witness  declares  that  he  has  had  miraculous  evi- 
dence of  that  which  he  asserts,  there  goes  with  such  decla- 
ration the  implied  admission  that  he  would  not  have  believed 
what  he  now  asserts,  had  he  not  received  the  miraculous 
proof.  But  if  the  declarer  acknowledges  that  he  could  not 
have  believed  what  he  now  asserts,  had  he  not  received  mi- 
raculous proof,  he  is  precluded  from  expecting  a  third  party 
to  accept  what  he  alleges,  unless  supported  by  similar  super- 
natural evidence.  In  other  words, —  it  takes  a  miracle  to 
prove  a  miracle.  For  belief  in  miracles,  therefore,  the  evi- 
dence must  be  miraculous  and  immediate  or  direct.  While 
it  is  possible  to  give  a  natural  explanation  of  the  occurrence 
of  any  phenomena,  no  supernatural  one  can  be  admitted  or 
thought  of.  This  is  certainly  a  safe  rule;  but  it  is  one  that 
makes  it  impossible  for  a  person  professing  to  have  wit- 
nessed a  miracle,  to  prove  to  another  party  the  genuineness 
of  the  miracle  he  declares.  For  it  matters  not  what  the 
character  of  the  declarer  may  be,  the  fact  remains  —  hu- 
mani  est  errare,  it  is  human  to  err;  and  the  possibility  of 
being  deceived  or  mistaken,  remains  forever  greater  than 
the  possibility  of  miraculous  occurrences.     It  is  more  rea- 


274  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

sonable,  therefore,  to  believe  that  the  declarer  has  been  de- 
ceived or  is  mistaken,  than  that  he  really  witnessed  what  he 
asserts.  To  substantiate  a  miracle  the  evidence  must,  there- 
fore, as  we  have  said,  be  direct  and  miraculous.  That  God 
could  give  such  evidence,  can  not  be  questioned;  that  He 
does  not  give  such  evidence,  everybody  knows.  The  fact 
that  He  does  not,  is  to  us  conclusive  proof  that  miracles  are 
unnecessary.  The  testimony  for  miracles,  given  in  the 
New  Testament,  is  highly  unsatisfactory,  —  indeed,  as  Mill 
says,  insufficient  to  prove  the  occurrence  even  of  an  or 
dinary  fact;  and  absolutely  worthless  when  adduced,  as  it  is, 
to  prove  the  reality  of  occurrences  contrary  to  the  general 
laws  of  nature.  We  do  not,  therefore,  believe  that  we 
have  any  conclusive  proof  of  the  divine  nature  of  Christ, 
from  the  reputedly  miraculous  works  attributed  to  him;  for 
such  works  have  not  been  substantiated,  and  can  not  be. 

"  Shall  we  next  ask  if  we  have  conclusive  proof  of  the 
divine  nature  of  Christ,  from  the  character  of  his  teachings  ? 
It  has  been  held  by  many  that  the  teachings  of  Christ  are 
superhuman.  This  belief  is  sufficiently  refuted  by  the  fact 
that  his  teachings  are  agreeable  to  us,  and  much  more  read- 
ily comprehended  than  the  teachings  of  philosophers  in 
general.  And  when  we  consider  the  fact  that  the  teachings 
of  Christ  do  not  contain  any  essentially  new  ideas  concern- 
ing either  God  or  man,  the  absurdity  of  declaring  Christ's 
teachings  to  be  superhuman,  becomes  sufficiently  apparent. 
Whether  we  consider  his  person,  his  alleged  works,  or  his 
teachings,  we  have  no  satisfactory  and  conclusive  evidence 
that  Christ  was  other  than  man,  conceived  and  born  of 
woman,  and  begotten  of  man;  but  we  have  every  reason  to 
believe  that  he  came  into  the  world,  like  many  others,  im- 
pressed with  the  idea  that  he  had  a  work  to  perform;  and 
we  believe  he  did  this  work  nobly,  and  that  he  finally  gave 
his  life,  as  Socrates  gave  his,  for  the  truth  he  had  preached. 


A    PRIEST   AND    A    WARDEN.  275 

•'  I  do  not  wish,  Mr.  Morse,  to  be  known  as  a  grumbling 
child  of  the  Infinite  Father.  I  am  satisfied  with  nature  as  I 
find  it ;  satisfied  with  the  certainties  of  to-day,  and  the  uncer- 
tainties of  to-morrow  ;  satisfied  not  only  with  the  knowledge 
I  have  of  this  present  state,  and  the  part  I  perform  in  it, 
but  also  with  my  uncertainties  concerning  a  future  state. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  am  not  satisfied  that  God  should  open 
the  heavens  to  the  gaze  of  one,  though  it  be  Peter  or  Paul, 
and  keep  it  closed  to  the  gaze  of  others  who  strain  every 
nerve  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  it.  In  other  words,  all  I  ask,  in 
this  battle  for  existence,  is  fair  play;  and  that  I  expect  God 
to  give  me." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

QUIETING   A    MOTHER'S    ANXIETY. 

Oi  Aids  Kal  ~Evpd}iT7Js  iraiSes.  iSv  oi'5'   oi   vofioi — 
The  children  of  God  and  Europa,  of  whom  are  these  laws. 

{Plato:  Minos  xxt'i.  31.) 

ii  V/IY  dear  son,"  said  Merton's  aged  mother,  "Mr. 
Judex,  I  believe,  does  not  believe  in  Christ.  Am  I 
right  in  this?" 

"Mother, ' '  replied  Merton,  '  'it  will  depend  on  what  you 
meanwhenyousay,  'believe  in  Christ. '  If  you  mean  to  ask 
whether  Mr.  Judex  believes  that  Christ  is  God  Almighty,  I 
answer,  he  does  not;  but  if  you  mean  to  ask,  whether  he 
believes  that  Christ  was  a  pure  and  noble  man  sent  into  the 
world  to  teach  you  and  me  ljow  to  live  a  better  life,  and  pre- 
pare for  a  better  state,  I  answer,  he  does." 

'  'Yes, my  son;  but  are  we  not  told  that, unless  we  believe 
that  Christ  is  God,  we  can  not  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven?' ' 

"We  sometimes  hear  such  words,  or  their  equivalent, 
from  the  pulpits  of  the  land,  mother,  without  doubt;  but 
when  Mr.  Gill  told  us,  a  little  before  he  left  for  South 
America,  that  he  had  seen  the  devil  and  several  of  his  imps, 
did  you  really  believe  his  word?' ' 

"No,  my  son,  but  that  was  the  saying  of  one  man,  and 
said  only  for  a  short  time;  whereas  the  other  is  said  by  so 
very  many,  and  for  such  a  long  time." 

"Because  of  the  fact  that  millions  of  people,  for  thous- 
ands of  years,  have  believed  in  witches  and  wizards,  do 
you  therefore  believe  in  their  existence?" 

"No,  my  son,  but  then — " 

"There  is  no  'but  then'  about  it  mother.    That  should 

show  you  plainly  enough  that  the  simple  saying  of  things, 

276 


QUIETING   A    MOTHER'S    ANXIETY.  277 

does  not  prove  their  truth.  If  the  preachers  make  such  as- 
sertions, that  does  not  prove  that  such  assertions  are 
founded  upon  truth." 

"  But,  my  dear  son,  is  it  not  so  said  in  the  Scriptures  ?  " 

"  Different  constructions  are  put  on  the  same  passages 
of  Scripture,  mother.  I  do  not  deny  that  passages,  taken 
by  some  to  mean  just  what  you  say,  are  found  in  the  New 
Testament.  As  for  myself,  I  do  not  believe  that  the  New 
Testament  any  where  teaches  that  Christ  is  God  Almighty; 
and  if  I  thought  it  did  so  teach,  it  would  only  still  more 
lessen  my  faith  in  its  authoritative  character." 

"  But,  my  son,  when  we  pray  to  Christ,  does  that  not 
prove  that  Christ  is  God  ?  " 

"  By  no  means,  mother.  When  the  heathen  falls  down 
before  his  stone-image,  does  that  prove  that  the  image  is 
inhabited  by  God  ?  Our  praying  to  Christ  does  not  prove 
that  Christ  is  God,  for  such  a  prayer  may  not  be  warranted. 
The  Episcopal  Church  has  but  few  prayers  addressed  to 
Christ.  We  pray  to  God,  addressing  to  Him  our  petitions, 
or  whatever  it  may  be,  through  Jesus  Christ.  This  does  not 
make  Jesus  Christ  the  object  of  prayer,  but  rather  the  car- 
rier; or,  if  you  prefer  it,  the  person  through  whom  we  have 
access  to  God.  Provided  Jesus  Christ  and  God  Almighty  be 
one  and  the  same  Being,  a  man  who  prays  to  Jesus  Christ, 
would  certainly  be  praying  to  God;  but  if  they  are  not  one 
and  the  same  Being,  would  the  man  then  be  praying  to 
God?" 

"No,  my  son,  certainly  not;  but  then — " 

"Yes,  mother,  I  understand;  but  let  me  ask  you  to  cease 
using  such  phrases  as  '  but  then.'  Very  much  danger  lurks 
in  the  use  of  such  sayings.  They  are  blind  guides  which 
lead  those  who  follow  them  into  the  ditch;  they  are  dark 
words  containing  no  light.  Continuing  what  I  was  saying: 
if  a  man  should  pray  to  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  and  God  Al- 


27&  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

mighty  be  one  and  the  same  Being,  would  not  the  man,  in 
that  case,  be  praying  also  to  Jesus  Christ  ?  " 

"Of  course,  my  son,  he  would." 

"If  a  man  prays  to  God  Almighty,  and  Jesus  Christ  and 
God  Almighty  are  not  one  and  the  same  Being,  would  the 
man  not  be  still  praying  to  God  ? " 

"Certainly,  my  son:  how  could  it  be  otherwise.  If  a 
man  prays  to  God,  he  prays  to  God." 

"  So  I  think,  mother.  I  therefore  think  the  only  safe 
rule  a  man  can  act  upon  in  prayer  is  to  pray  to  ihe  Being 
whom  we  know  to  be  God,  or  about  whose  deity  there  can 
be  no  question.  Whether  Jesus  Christ  be  God  or  no,  I  know 
not.  That  he  is  not  God,  I  know  is  the  belief  of  the  large 
majority  of  thinking  men,  and  of  all  the  adherents  of  the 
other  world-wide  religions.  Of  one  thing  I  am  sure,  and 
that  is,  no  satisfactory  evidence,  to  establish  his  divinity,  has 
ever  been  presented  me.  I  know,  on  the  other  hand,  that  I 
am,  that  the  sun  rules  the  day,  and  the  moon  the  night;  and 
I  declare  that  I  firmly  believe  there  must  be  a  Power,  con- 
scious, immanent,  a  Power  in,  through,  and  more  than,  all 
things;  the  Power  through  which,  and  by  which,  all  things 
are.  To  this  Power  I  pray,  and,  when  I  pray,  my  soul  is 
not  torn  with  misgivings  as  to  whether  the  object  of  my 
prayer  is  God  or  not.  For  I  am  certain  there  is  nothing 
greater,  wider,  deeper,  mightier,  purer,  truer,  more  change- 
less, or  more  abiding,  than  the  Power  to  which  I  pray.  I 
pray,  then,  knowing,  without  one  doubt,  that  if  there  is  a 
God,  which  I  doubt  not,  to  that  God  I  am  praying.  Such 
a  prayer  is  not  directed  to  a  person  whose  deity  has  ever 
been  the  subject  of  dispute,  and  is  denied  by  hundreds  of 
millions;  but  to  Him  whom  the  universal  voice  of  adoring 
humanity  declares  to  be  God.  Let  you  and  me,  mother, 
pray  and  hope,  strive  and  conquer;  but  when  we  pray,  let  us 
be  sure  that  we  pray  to  God.     If  we  wish  to  pray  to  Jesus, 


QUIETING   A    MOTHER'S   ANXIETY.  279 

I  see  no  reason  why  we  can't,  since  I  think  it  possible  for 
the  saints  to  hear  us.  If  they  could  help  us  when  on  earth 
with  their  prayers,  why  can  they  not  help  us  in  heaven?  But 
this  is  a  question  concerning  which  I  can  not  speak  with  any 
definite  knowledge:  all  is  supposition." 

"  But,  my  dear  son,  do  you  remember  when  your  dear 
father  died,  how,  with  his  finger  pointing  to  the  wall,  he 
cried,  'See,  Lavinia,  see  the  precious  blood  of  Jesus!' 
Could  your  dear  father  die  so  happy,  unless  Christ  was 
God  ? " 

"  My  dear  mother,  you  know  how  dear  my  father,  while 
living,  was  to  me,  and  how  sweet  his  memory  is  to  me  to- 
day. But  how  many  thousands  of  heathens  have  hurled 
themselves  into  the  funeral-fires,  rejoicing  at  the  thought 
that  their  spirits  were  about  to  accompany  those  of  their 
friends  to  the  skies  ?  How  many  thousands  have  thrown 
themselves  under  the  heavy  wheels  of  the  car  of  their  god, 
expecting  through  such  immolation  a  more  abundant  reward! 
Because  they  did  these  things,  do  you  therefore  say  they 
acted  reasonably,  or  that  their  expectations  were  founded 
upon  truth  ?" 

"  No,  my  son;  but  — " 

"  I  have  already  spoken,  mother,  of  the  use  of  '  but,'  and 
said  it  is  a  dangerous  word  to  use.  The  truth  is:  as  a  man 
thinketh  in  his  heart,  so  is  he.  No  matter  what  a  man  be- 
lieves; if  it  be  a  comforting  belief,  and  he  have  no'  doubt, 
he  will  die  with  a  shout.  Thus  we  find  Mohammedans. 
Buddhists,  Brahmins,  Christians,  and  even  the  American  In- 
dian on  the  eve  of  entering  the  Happy  Hunting-Ground,  all 
dying  with  a  shout,  each  alike  satisfied  that,  as  Socrates  said, 
he  is  about  to  be  '  released  from  a  prison  as  it  were.'  That 
a  man  dies  happy  in  his  faith,  is  no  proof  whatever  that  he 
does  not  die  deceived.  When  you  are  at  home  in  Eudoxia, 
you  might  be  happy  to-day,  at  the  thought  of  setting  out  to 


c8o  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

visit  me  to-morrow,  when,  at  the  same  time,  I  might  have 
died  yesterday,  without  your  knowing  it.  But  it  would  be 
all  the  same  to  you,  as  long  as  you  imagined  I  was  living. 
My  father  lived  a  good  life  ;  he  was  a  child  of  God.  As 
such  the  Father  took  him,  whether  his  faith  was  such  as  it 
should  have  been  or  not.  It  is  the  heart  that  God  looks  to 
—  the  intention,  more  than  to  the  form  of  words.  If  God 
should  now  ask  me,  '  what  art  thou  ? '  what  could  I  answer, 
but  '  a  poor,  wandering,  erring  child  looking  for  Thee,  my 
Father; '  but  if  He  should  ask  me,  '  what  wilt  thou  ? '  I 
should  say,  'perfect  conformity  to  Thy  will,  my  God.'  It 
is  the  latter  expression,  in  my  judgment,  that  God  delights 
to  hear;  for  what  are  we  in  God's  sight,  no  matter  how  pure 
and  hoi)'',  but  weakness  and  error !  Thus  with  my  dear 
father:  the  confession  he  made,  when  dying,  was  valuable, 
not  so  much  for  what  it  showed  him  to  be,  as  for  what  it 
showed  he  wished  to  be.  No  soul,  mother,  who  longs  to  get 
nearer  to  God,  can  ever  be  cast  out  from  His  presence." 

"  My  dear  son,  you  make  things  very  plain  to  your  aged 
mother,  although  I  can't  reason  with  you.  Many  things 
you  say  are  very  strange  to  me.  Your  mother  loves  to  hear 
you  talk  ;  you  remove  the  mists  that  hang  before  my  eyes  a 
great  deal." 

"  I  am  glad,  my  dear  mother,  that  you  are  able  to  say  so 
much.  God  grant  that  you  may  never  have  cause  to 
say  worse.  I  wish  I  could  remove  the  mists  from  the  eyes 
of  thousands  who  are  nearly  blinded  with  superstition  and 
error.  But  it  is  hard,  mother,  to  make  a  man  believe  that 
his  household  gods  are  not  the  great  powers  he  supposed 
them  to  be;  hard  to  make  a  man  think  that  the  faith  of  his 
childhood  is  not  true.  But  thousands  are  falling  all  around 
us  from  the  faith  they  once  held,  as  leaves  from  the  tree  in 
autumn.  It  is  impossible  that  men  should  continue,  in  the 
light  of  reason  and  science,  to  believe   much   longer  the 


QUIETING   A   MOTHER'S    AXIETY.  28 1 

faith  of  their  childhood.  It  is  honey-combed,  rotten,  crum- 
bling away.  It  is  dying;  and  I  say,  let  it  die,  and  be 
gathered  to  its  fathers,  the  superstitions  of  the  past  ages. 
But  it  dies  hard:  preachers  and  theologians  are  prescribing 
new  remedies;  but  the  old  faiths  have  an  incurable  dis- 
ease: they  are  unreasonable;  they  must  and  will  die.  They 
offer  us  a  god  unjust  and  bloody;  and  this  in  itself  is  suf- 
ficient to  prove  their  falsity.     Says  Goethe: 

^Der  missversteht  die  Himmeliscken,  der  sie   blutgicrig  waehnV  " 

(I ph.  auf  Tauris  1.  j>.) 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

LAW  AND   ECCLESIASTICISM. 

Law  serves  morality  by  securing  the  free  development  of  its 
power  residing  in  every  human  will.  {Savigny.) 

cos  apa   vdpxivs  avdpcbirois  avayKaiov  Tldeadai,  nai  ^v  Kara  vdfxovs — 
It    is    necessary    that    laws  should  be  established  for  men, 
and  to  live  according  to  law.  {Plato:  Legfs  ix.  8J4.) 

DARTL,Y  arising  from  Merton's  doubts  as  to  the  truth  of 
many  of  the  dogmas  of  the  church,  and  partly  to  fill 
the  requirements  of  the  university  in  his  course  of  study 
for  the  degree  of  LTv-D.,  he  resolved  to  leave  the  active 
work  of  the  ministry  for  three  years,  and  devote  himself 
to  the  study  of  the  law,  ancient  and  modern. 

The  university  was  situated  in  a  beautiful  village  of- 
fering a  quiet  retreat  to  such  as  might  be  mentally  dis- 
turbed. This  in  addition  to  the  fact  that  his  new  duties 
would  necessarily. call  off  his  thoughts  from  those  subjects 
that  had  been  so  greatly  troubling  Merton,  made  his  so- 
journ, at  the  law-school,  a  physical  no  less  than  an  intel- 
lectual blessing. 

In  the  study  of  the  law,  Merton  found  great  delight. 
In  it  he  discovered  something  real,  not  imaginary;  some- 
thing tangible,  not  a  ghost.  Having  only  to  do  with  the 
world  that  is,  it  contains  no  imaginary  factors.  Says 
Aristotle: 

"  cpavepov     8ri     tuiv     <pi!uei    77     7r6Xi9     earl    kcl\    8ti    dvdpcoiros    <pv<rei 

iroXiTiKbv  &ov — It  is  evident  that  the  city  is  the  natural 
out-come  of  these  things,  and  that  man  by  nature  is  a  po- 
litical animal.'.'  (Repub.  1.2,9.)  Law  is  therefore  as  much 
the  proper  product  of  human  development,  as  the  rose  is 
the  natural  result  of  the  development  of  the  rose-tree.  By 
the  study  of  the  law  Merton's  admiration  for  ecclesiasticism 

was  diminished,  rather  than  increased;  for  it  is  in  the  re- 

282 


LAW   AND   ECCLESIASTICISM.  283 

lation  of  the  church  to  the  state,  that  the  base  cunning 
and  intrigue  of  ecclesiastics  are  most  brought  to  light. 
What  the  church  has  not  been  able  to  accomplish  by  what 
it  has  been  pleased  to  call,  '  'the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost," 
she  has  accomplished  by  the  sword  and  the  legislature.  By 
bribes  and  threats  the  bishop  has  generally  succeeded  in 
getting  from  the  king  such  as  he  sought  for  the  advance- 
ment of  his  own  order;  which,  in  ecclesiastical  language,  is 
for  the  advancement  of  the  glory  of  God. 

Since  the  17th  century,  no  ecclesiastic  has  been  Lord 
Chancellor;  "and,"  says  Lord  Campbell,  "I  presume  the 
experiment  is  not  likely  to  be  soon  repeated. ' ' 

The  sources  of  law  and  religion  are  supposed  to  be 
radically  different ;  and  certainly  they  have  not  the  same 
end  in  common.  Law  is  founded  in  utility,  and  is  wholly 
originated  and  preserved  by  the  people.  Religion,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  supposed,  by  those  most  interested  in  it,  to 
have  had  a  superhuman  origin;  and  its  prime  factors  are 
supposed  to  be  beyond  the  test  of  human  reason.  The  end 
of  the  law  is  perfection  of  known  existence;  while  the 
end  of  religion  is  said  to  be  the  proper  preparation  for  an 
unknown  existence.  Law  is  wholly  the  fruit  of  human 
reason ;  religion  is  essentially  the  fruit  of  superstition  and 
belief.  If  religion  is  to  be  enjoyed  at  all,  all  men  should  be 
free  to  follow  whatever  forms  of  religion  may  seem  most 
agreeable  to  their  respective  natures,  it  being  understood 
that  no  man  should  be  permitted  to  follow  or  enjoy  any 
religion  opposed  to  the  interests  of  the  state.  In  judging 
whether  or  not  any  system  of  religious  belief  be  detrimental 
to  the  interest  of  the  state,  known  facts  must  be  preferred 
to  unknown,  the  results  of  experience  to  the  claims  of 
faith.  Law  should  secure  the  freedom  of  individual 
opinion,  except  where,  by  the  use  of  such  individual  free- 
dom, the  institutions  of  state,  or  the  liberties  of  others,  are 


284  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

endangered.  That  law  may  fulfill  these  grand  purposes, 
fanaticism  must  not  be  one  of  its  elements;  and  that  it  may 
be  a  shelter  to  all,  it  must  not  be  exponential  of  the  cre- 
dulity of  any.  As  soon  as  religion  puts  its  hand  to  the  helm 
of  the  ship  of  state,  the  security  of  the  nation  and  its  citi- 
zens is  gone.  The  end  and  sphere  of  law  demand  that  the 
ark  in  which  the  sacred  rights  and  liberties  of  the  people 
are  preserved,  be  never  approached  by  the  hand  of  him 
who  seeks  legislative  discrimination  in  religious  matters. 
Law  in  its  very  nature  is  national;  religion  in  its  very 
nature  is  exclusive  and  narrow.  We  may  say  with  truth 
that  however  beautiful  the  life  of  Christ  may  have  been,  the 
lives  of  his  followers  have  been  seen  to  the  worst  advantage, 
when  they  have  had  power  to  enforce  their  views  upon 
others.  Christians  have  been  neither  charitable,  nor  merci- 
ful, when  the  laws  of  the  land  were  determined  by  the 
church.  Calvin  was  designed  for  the  priesthood,  and  held 
a  benefice  at  the  early  age  of  twelve  years.  Very  early  he 
saw  the  false  and  dangerous  claims  of  the  Pope,  and  gave 
up  his  benefice.  He  then  with  great  zeal  applied  himself 
to  the  study  of  the  law  at  Orleans,  but  afterwards  took  up 
theology  again.  His  legal  studies  sharpened  his  powers  of 
judgment,  and  he  soon  became  the  most  inveterate  enemy 
of  Rome,  even  declaring  the  Pope  to  be  antichrist.  Calvin 
became  the  champion  of  the  French  Reformation,  but  as 
soon  as  Francis  I  began  to  revel  in  Protestant  blood,  Calvin 
was  compelled  to  fly  from  Paris.  He  then  denounced  in 
fiercest  language  the  tyranny  of  the  Pope,  and  the  unscript- 
ural  character  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church,  and  soon 
convinced  his  enemies  of  his  ability  as  a  disputant  and  a 
leader  of  men.  He  swayed  the  hearts  of  thousands;  his 
authority  and  rule  rapidly  increased,  until  his  victory  was 
complete.  The  usual  result  followed.  Calvin  set  up  an 
inexorably  rigid  church  discipline;  instituted  an  ecclesias- 


LAW   AND   ECCLESIASTICISM.  285 

tical  consistory  empowered  to  inflict  heavy  penalties  civil  as 
well  ecclesiastical,  and  through  it  exercised  almost  unlim- 
ited sway.  The  citizen  was  called  to  answer  for  every 
suspicious  expression,  the  incorrigible  being  banished,  and 
the  dangerous  put  to  death.  One  was  imprisoned  for 
speaking  slightingly  of  his  doctrine;  another  was  put  to 
death  for  denying  the  Trinity.  When  Calvin  was  denied  by 
Rome  the  right  of  freedom  of  speech,  he  denounced  the 
Pope  in  the  most  bitter  terms;  but  as  soon  as  he  had 
acquired  the  authority,  he  became  more  oppressive  than  the 
Pope  himself.  The  Romish  hierarchy  is  the  mother  of 
religious  intolerance;  but  the  spirit  of  intolerance  is  coex- 
tensive with  religious  superstition,  and  manifests  itself 
immediately  at  the  excessive  dominance  of  any  religious 
party. 

In  the  year  1534,  the  English  Church  severed  its  con. 
nection  with  Rome  by  statute  xxvi  Henry  VIII,  c.  1;  and 
in  1537  the  reformation  of  the  English  Church,  under 
Henry  VIII,  had  reached  its  culminating  point.  The 
grounds  of  this  separation  were  papal  tyranny,  and  political 
difficulties  arising  out  of  the  recognition  by  English  citizens 
of  foreign  authority.  But  the  English  Church  having 
thrown  off  the  yoke  of  its  foreign  master,  it  was  not  long 
before  the  people  discovered,  that  the  tyranny  of  the  Pope 
had  only  been  transferred  to  English  bishops. 

From  the  earlist  ages,  scepticism  has  always  prevailed 
among  the  powerful  and  the  more  learned;  but  the  ignorant 
and  the  weak  have  been  kept  in  servile  bondage  to  priestly 
dictation.  Very  early  in  the  reformation  of  the  English 
Church,  it  began  more  and  more  to  restrict  the  liberty  of 
speech,  and  to  enforce  conformity  to  its  ritual  and  dogma. 
Queries  ex  officio  mero  were  issued  against  clergymen,  to 
answer  under  oath  questions  which  involved  their  opinions, 
not  only  as  to  matters  in  which  they  had,  or  might  have, 


286  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL. 

conformed,  but  also  as  to  their  future  intentions  concerning 
conformity.  To  obtain  their  ends,  the  governors  of  the 
church  resorted  to  the  barbarous  cruelty  of  torture.  Acts 
of  Conformity  were  passed,  §§2  and  3  Edward  VI,  c.  1;  §§5 
and  6  Edward  VI,  c.  1,  which  were  afterwards  abolished  by 
Mary,  sessions  ii,  c.  2;  and  on  April  29th,  1659,  the  Acts  of 
Supremacy  (I  Eliz.  c.  1)  and  Uniformity  (I  Eliz.  c.  2)  were 
passed  by  parliament.  Under  these  acts,  all  non-conform- 
ists were  punished  by  fines,  imprisonment,  or  banishment. 
Life  became  grievous;  multitudes  left  the  country.  But 
the  great  engine  of  tyranny  was  the  Ecclesiastical  Commis- 
sion. This  was  established  under  the  eighth  clause  of  the  Act 
of  Supremacy,  which  permitted  the  queen  to  delegate  her 
powers  to  persons  appointed  to  carry  out  the  purposes  of 
the  Acts  of  Supremacy  and  Conformity.  The  power  thus 
delegated  was  indefinite  and  almost  unlimited,  ail  opinions 
and  actions,  contrary  to  the  above  legislative  acts,  falling 
under  its  cognizance.  This  unmerciful  persecution  by  the 
English  Church  caused  a  consequent  antagonism  which 
sought  its  revenge  in  the  overthrow  of  the  established 
church.  But  here  again  we  find  the  persecuted  soon 
becoming  the  persecutors.  On  January  3rd,  1645,  an  ordi- 
nance was  passed  by  parliament,  prohibiting  the  public  use 
of  the  prayer-book;  and  on  August  23rd  of  this  year,  this 
prohibition  was  made  general.  Thus  was  the  established 
church  overthrown,  and  humbled  almost  to  death  through 
its  own  arrogance,  and  tyranny. 

One  would  think  that  the  Puritans,  having  thus  tasted 
the  bitterness  of  oppression,  would  in  their  days  of  power 
be  tolerant ;  but  they  were  not  so.  They  acted  as  had  their 
brother  ecclesiastics  in  like  position  :  they  proved  what  may 
be  said  to  be  a  universal  truth, — oppression  always  follows  the 
free  exercise  of  the  will  of  an  ecclesiastical  legislature.  The 
Puritans  of  the  Commonwealth  manifested  the  most  bitter 


LAW   AND   ECCLESIASTICISM.  287 

spirit  of  revenge,  and  set  up  a  government  the  most  intol- 
erant of  all.  The  royalist  clergy  were  deprived  of  every 
means  of  living,  and  all  persons  were  prohibited  from  em- 
ploying them  even  as  tutors.  They  established  a  tribunal 
called  the  Triers,  to  which  was  assigned  all  authority  in 
matters  of  church  government ;  and  they  passed  an  ordin- 
ance against  heretical  opinions.  They  even  endeavored  to 
deal  with  private  vices  by  passing  several  laws  against  im- 
morality ;  and  they  everywhere  persecuted  the  adherents  of 
Episcopalianism.  During  the  eleven  years  (1649- 1660) 
in  which  the  Puritans  had  full  sway,  they  set  the  church 
above  the  state,  and  made  gods  of  their  ministers.  Said 
Cartwright,  one  of  their  great  leaders  :  '  The  magistrates 
must  remember  to  submit  themselves  unto  the  church,  to 
throw  down  their  crowns  before  the  church,  yea,  as  the 
prophet  speaketh,  to  lick  the  dust  off  the  feet  of  the  church.' 
Puritanism  was  the  child  of  oppression,  but  it  early  became 
the  prince  of  tyrants.  So  shameful,  unmerciful,  violent, 
and  tyrannical,  had  the  exercise  of  their  power  become  that 
even  the  Presbyterians  hailed  with  delight  its  fall,  and  the 
restoration  of  the  monarchy.  The  joy  in  England  at  the 
coming  of  Charles,  was  general  and  genuine,  and  the  bells 
tolled  out  the  song  of  gladness. 

Ecclesiastics  can  not  be  permitted  to  determined  legis- 
lation ;  for  so  great  is  their  love  of  power,  that  they  will 
even  destroy  themselves  to  satiate  it.  They  can  no  more  be 
trusted  with  government  'than  the  tiger  with  the  taste  of 
blood.  By  permitting  ecclesiastics  to  have  the  power  of 
determining  legislation,  the  state  renders  impossible  the  end 
of  government — the  welfare  of  the  citizens  as  a  whole.  The 
welfare  of  religion  should  not  be  considered,  when  the  leg- 
islature asks  itself,  whether  or  not  any  particular  legislation 
will  be  beneficial  to  the  state.  It  should  be  determined  by 
the  general   ideas  of   the  state  at  large,  as  enlightened  by 


283  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

science  and  reason.  Religion  is  in  its  very  nature  exclusive 
and  arbitrary,  and  it  is  as  naturally  productive  of  intolerance 
as  the  sun  is  of  heat.  The  seeming  liberality  which  prevails 
at  certain  times  and  places,  is  not  the  fruit  of  religion  ;  but 
as  a  man  will  give  all  that  he  has  for  his  life,  so  will  any 
ecclesiastical  body  suffer  many  grievous  things,  rather  than 
be  pressed  to  death  by  the  pressure  of  public  opinion.  We 
have  no  grounds  for  supposing  that  different  results  from 
those  mentioned  above  would  follow  to-day  the  excessive 
dominance  of  any  ecclesiastical  party  ;  but  the  spread  of 
scientific  knowledge,  and  the  consequent  dissipation  of  su- 
perstition and  credulity,  tending  to  bring  into  subjection 
more  and  more  any  and  every  form  of  religious  faith,  gives 
us  good  assurance,  that  the  enlightened  nations  of  the  world 
will  not  again  try  the  experiment  of  allowing  ecclesiastics  to 
shapen  legislation  to  the  jeopardy  of  liberty  and  truth. 

An  immoral  religion  should  be  proscribed  by  the  state. 
In  considering  the  fitness  of  a  religion,  positive  facts  showing 
incontrovertably  its  evil  results,  should  outweigh  all  declar- 
ations, made  by  its  adherents,  that  its  origin  is  divine.  This 
rule  should  be  followed  for  three  reasons  : 

i  :  The  teachers  of  all  religions  are  greatly  interested 
parties,  and  are,  therefore,  naturally  prejudiced  in  favor  of 
their  respective  creeds  ; 

2  :  Positive  knowledge  is  superior  to  mere  faith  or  be- 
lief; 

3  :  It  is  not  to  be  believed  that  God  would  reveal  a 
religion  injurious  to  society. 

The  people  of  the  state  should,  therefore,  judge  of  the 
fitness  of  a  religion,  and  their  criterion  must  be  present  util- 
ity. What  is  right  and  what  is  wrong,  are  questions  which 
always  exist  in  public  and  in  private  ;  and  in  answering 
them,  not  only  the  individual,  but  also  the  nation  will  fre- 
quently be  sorely  perplexed.     The   ecclesiastic  holds  that 


LAW   AND   ECCLESIASTICISM.  289 

many  such  questions  can  be  answered  only  by  God,  and  that 
such  have  been  answered  by  Him  once  for  all  in  the  Bible. 
This  is  natural  :  it  is  to  the  interests  of  ecclesiastics  to  say 
so.  But  we  hold  that  the  correct  answer  to  the  question, 
what  is  useful  ?  is  also  the  correct  answer  to  the  seemingly 
mysterious  one,  what  is  right  ?  Right  with  one  nation  is 
right  with  another  nation,  only  so  far  as  the  questions  in- 
volved affect  alike  their  respective  interests.  What  is  really 
useful  to  the  individual  or  the  nation,  is  what  that  same  in- 
dividual or  nation  believes  to  be  right  ;  and  this  is  the  ex- 
planation why  good  ecclesiastics  have  been  the  most  infam- 
ous persecutors.  What  they  desired,  appeared  useful  to 
them  ;  and  they,  therefore,  thought  it  would  be  right,  and 
pursued  after  it  with  all  the  power  they  could  command. 

As  a  guide  and  teacher  law  is  most  powerful.  Religion 
has  a  strong  influence  over  some,  law  the  strongest  influence 
over  all.  Many  of  the  noblest  are  not  interested  in  religion, 
founding  their  objections  on  its  contradictory  character,  and 
the  lack  of  reasonable  evidence  to  support  its  claims  ;  but 
the  law  is  equally  binding  on  all,  from  the  king  to  the  peas- 
ant. Its  invincible  power  is  recognized  by  all,  because  on 
the  enforcement  of  the  law,  depends  the  safety  of  the  indi- 
vidual, as  well  as  the  welfare  of  the  nation.  The  tendency 
of  the  law  is  to  exterminate  the  very  impulse  to  trespass  be- 
yond the  proper  region  of  free  action.  Religion  interests  a 
few  ;  law  interests  all.  Law  determines  our  action  for  a 
world  we  know  all  about  ;  religion  determines  our  action 
for  a  world  we  know  nothing  about,  all  the  creeds  to  the 
contrary.  Law  is  all-mighty.  We  see  the  cowardly  and 
superstitious  John,  for  his  disobedience  to  Rome,  licking 
the  dust  off  the  feet  of  the  proud  tyrant  who  arrogates  to 
himself  the  power  of  the  Almighty  ;  but  in  one  hundred  and 
sixty-two  years  from  that  time,  in  the  year  1365,  we  see  the 
law  asserting  itself,  in  parliament,  over  kings  and  popes,  by 


290  FOOTPRINTS   OP   A   SOUL. 

repudiating  papal  supremacy,  and  refusing  the  papal  tribute 
undertaken  by  John.  A  king  tyrannizes  over  his  subjects, 
and  covers  his  despotism  with  the  cloak  of  religion  ;  but  the 
wrathful  nation,  recalling  its  ancient  privileges,  determines 
to  enforce  the  law,  and  they  wring  from  their  law-breaking 
king,  on  the  15th  of  June,  12 15,  at  Runnymede,  the  Great 
Charter,  the  bulwark  of  English  liberty.  Popes  can  buy 
and  sell  passports  to  heaven,  and  give  to  whom  they  will 
their  papal  indulgences  ;  but  the  law  brings  the  proudest 
usurper  down,  and  humbles  him  in  the  dust.  From  the  in- 
fancy of  humanity  to  the  present  time,  there  never  has  been 
wanting  forces  to  impede  the  free  development  of  the  human 
mind,  by  suppressing  thought,  and  wrapping  the  individual 
in  mysticism  and  darkness.  The  greatest  of  these  forces 
has  been  that  of  religious  teaching,  whether  Christian  or 
heathen.  In  the  fourteenth  century,  when  English  human- 
ity began  to  groan  under  oppression,  and  demand  the  ex- 
tension of  liberty,  the  church  advised  emancipation  ;  but 
although  she  could  advise  the  barons  to  emancipate  their 
serfs,  she  had  not  the  virtue  to  emancipate  her  own.  To 
secure  herself  the  church  could  set  the  king  above  all 
earthly  power,  by  preaching  divine  right  and  passive. obe- 
dience. The  law,  on  the  other  hand,  asserting  all  authority 
to  be  in  the  will  of  the  people,  would  not  thus  be  deprived 
of  its  throne.  When  James  II  commanded  the  young  Duke 
of  Somerset  to  introduce  the  papal  nuncio,  the  young  man 
replied  :  '  I  am  advised  that  I  can  not  obey  your  majesty 
without  breaking  the  law.'  '  Do  you  not  know,'  replied  the 
king,  'that  I  am  above  the  law  ? '  '  Your  majesty  may  be,' 
answered  the  young  duke,  '  but  I  am  not.' 

The  nation  guided  by  the  church,  is  sure  to  die  ;  the  na- 
tion guided  by  the  will  of  the  people,  is  sure  to  live.  Spain 
is  an  example  of  the  former  ;  England  and  the  United 
States,  examples  of  the  latter.     Italy,  while  under  the  rule  of 


LAW  AND  ECCLESIASTICISM.  29 1 

the  priest,  was  a  carcass;  having  cast  off  the  ecclesiastical 
yoke,  she  was  coming  to  the  front  among  the  great  nations 
of  the  world.  The  hand  of  the  priest  paralyzes  everything 
it  touches;  the  will  of  the  people,  when  expressed  in  law, 
raises  the  nation  up. 

The  power  and  saving  nature  of  the  law  is  well  ex- 
pressed by  Lord  Coke:  "By  the  common  law,"  says  he, 
"every  man's  house  is  called  his  castle.  Why?  Because  it 
is  surrounded  by  a  mote,  or  defended  by  a  wall?  No!  It 
may  be  a  straw-built  hut;  the  wind  may  whistle  through 
it,  the  rain  may  enter  it,  but  the  king  can  not." 

Such  characters  as  Hardwicke,  Camden,  Thurlow,  Ros- 
lin,  Redesdale,  Grant,  Eldon,  and  others,  permeate  the 
whole  nation  with  the  spirit  of  justice,  and  move  it  onward 
toward  the  goal  of  perfection.  Whether  we  consider 
the  pillars  of  government,  the  pilots  of  the  ship  of  state,  the 
makers  of  commerce,  the  leaders  of  society,  the  originators 
of  peace,  or  the  guides  of  individual  action, — we  shall  find 
first  and  foremost,  in  power  and  example,  the  great  lights 
of  the  law. 

The  greater  the  priestly  power  in  a  nation,  the  less  its 
sympathy.  When  England  was  most  governed  by  priests, 
she  could  hang  up  men  by  the  feet,  and  smoke  them  as  if 
hams;  could  exile  every  Jew,  and  most  barbarously  treat 
thousands  of  ill-fated  people;  could  shut  up  within  dungeon 
walls  at  the  behest  of  a  bigot  called  Clement  IV,  a  Roger 
Bacon,  on  the  charge  of  heresy,  although  he  had  spent  a 
large  fortune  for  the  advancement  of  science,  and  was  con- 
fessedly the  most  learned  man  of  the  age.  The  nation  is  in 
danger,  if  under  the  heels  of  the  priesthood;  ecclesiastics 
are  not  to  be  trusted,  either  as  judges  or  legislators;  the  ap- 
parent fraternal  feeling  which  at  times  exists  between  dif- 
ferent denominations,  is  not  the  result  of  the  spirit  of 
kindness,  but  is  manifested  for  the  sake  of  self- preservation, 


292  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A   SOUL. 

infidelity  and  public  opinion  forcing  it;  Christians  when  in 
power  have  been  neither  charitable  nor  merciful;  ecclesias- 
tics can  not  be  permitted  to  determine  legislation;  reason  is 
above  dogma  and  the  bible;  the  teachers  of  all  religions  are 
naturally  interested  parties,  and  therefore  their  declarations 
must  be  received  accordingly;  religious  teachers  have 
helped  to  keep  the  mind  of  man  in  darkness;  the  nation  is 
sure  to  die,  if  guided  by  the  priesthood,  for  the  priest  para- 
lyzes whatever  he  touches. 

The  fact  that  the  truth  of  these  allegations  was  appar- 
ent to  Merton,  sufhoiently  attests  his  doubts  as  to  the  re- 
vealed nature  of  Christianity,  and  his  distrust  toward 
church  and  clergy. 

Merton  had  read  very  extensively  on  the  history  of  the 
Christian  church,  carefully  reading  all  of  the  more  cele- 
brated works  written  on  the  subj  ect  in  the  English  language ; 
and  his  conclusions  were  such  that,  in  a  letter  to  the  bishop, 
he  said:  "If  a  man  wishes  to  arrive  at  infidelity,  the  shortest 
and  best  road  is  to  make  himself  thoroughly  acquainted 
with  the  history  of  the  church."  Merton  was  sure  that  no 
persons  had  shown  such  unwavering  hatred,  such  ma- 
liciousness, such  cunning  and  guile,  such  baseness  and 
treachery,  such  revengeful  and  murderous  spirit,  as  had 
the  priests  and  bishops  of  the  church.  When  the  Hussite 
Reformers  were  at  war  with  the  papists,  they  burnt  priests 
and  monks  in  pitch,  and  put  to  the  sword  whole  districts, 
with  the  exception  of  a  few  women  and  children;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  the  murderous  hatred  of  the  papal  party 
carried  them  to  such  atrocity,  that  they  even  bought  their 
enemies  at  so  much  a  head,  afterwards  to  put  them  to  a 
most  cruel  death.  Terrible  as  this  strife  was,  it  is  not  in- 
aptly characteristic  of  priestly  wars  in  general.  Merton  was 
certain  that  while  theoretically  a  philanthropic  body,  prac- 
tically the  church  had  never  hesitated  to  use,  whenever  it 


:,- 


LAW  AND  ECCLESIASTICISM.  293 

had  deemed  its  interests  at  stake,  all  the  power  it  could  com- 
mand, by  fair  means  or  foul,  to  persecute  its  enemies,  bind 
mankind  with  its  shackles,  and  force  upon  them  its  de- 
crees, however  detrimental  to  the  welfare  of  humanity 
in  general.  He  wondered  not  that  Henry  II,  who 
initiated  the  rule  of  law  in  England,  to  whom  may  be  traced 
the  court  of  King's  Bench,  the  equitable  jurisdiction  of  the 
chancellor,  and  trial  by  jury,  who  was  one  of  the  ablest  and 
most  efficient  monarchs  that  ever  lived,  and  whose  friend- 
ship was  sought  by  the  contemporary  sovereigns  at  any 
price,  should  die  cursing  the  whole  order  of  ecclesiastics. 
Merton  saw  clearly  enough  that  wherever  the  priest  had 
had  the  highest  political  power,  there  the  welfare  of  the 
nation  had  always  been  at  the  lowest  point.  Well  and 
truly  does  Goethe  say : 

"Abcr  Leib  nnd  Gebein  ist  nicht  zum  Besten  verivakret, 
Wenn  die  geistliche  Hand  der  ■weltlichen  Zuegel  sick  anmasst — 
Life   and   limb    are    never    best    protected,  when    the  priestly 
power  has  the  reins  of  government." 

[Hermann  and  Dorotlica  vi.  joo.) 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

ONE    GOD    ONE    HUMANITY. 

Nunquam  igitur  landari  satis  digue  philosophia  poterit — 
Never  therefore  will  philosophy  be  able  to  be  sufficiently  worthily 

praised.  {Cicero) 

PHILOSOPHY  is  the  love  ot  wisdom,  the  knowledge  of 
things  as  they  really  are,  or  the  search  after  causes.  It 
is  the  highest  of  all  studies,  it  alone  using  all  the  others, 
and  unifying  them.  To  prosecute  succesfully  the  study  of 
philosophy,  the  mind  must  be  eminently  free  from  bias, 
and  thoroughly  equipped  with  knowledge.  Not  all  who 
have  sufficient  information,  are  thereby  qualified  to  teach 
philosophy ;  for  they  may  be  unable  to  cast-  off  their  pre- 
judices,  or  rid  themselves  of  some  obnoxious  growths,  the 
results  of  seeds  sown  in  days  gone  by.  Nor  are  all  who 
are  free  from  bias,  competent  to  teach  philosophy;  because 
they  may  not  have  sufficient  information.  To  the  dis- 
grace of  many  of  our  so-called  universities,  men  are  often 
found  on  their  faculties,  teaching  philosophy,  who  have 
neither  the  requisite,  general  information,  nor  the  years 
which  alone  bring  fully  developed  and  settled  minds.  None 
is  qualified  to  teach  philosophy,  who  has  not  years,  ex- 
perience, an  unbiassed  mind,  and  vast  imformation. 

It  is  universally  admitted  that  a  greater  philosopher 
than  Aristotle  has  never  lived;  and  Plato  is  as  beautiful, 
poetical,  and  religious,  as  Aristotle  is  great.  It  was  Plato- 
who  spoke  as  but  few  men  ever  spoke,  and  perhaps  with 
wisdom  equal  to  that  of  any,  on  the  mysterious  problems 
of  life  and  death.  Who  sets  forth  in  more  glowing  terms 
than  these  philosophers  the  value  of  justice  and  wisdom, 
or  the  danger  of  injustice  and  ignorance?    Who  among  the 

world's  prophets  has  given  us  a  higher  conception  of  God? 

294 


ONE    GOD   ONE    HUMANITY.  295 

who,  a  higher  conception  of  man?  He  who  would  answer 
these  questions  truthfully,  or  not  at  all,  will,' in  my  opin- 
ion, keep  silence,  if  he  wishes  not  to  disturb  the  belief  that 
truth  and  righteousness  were  first  made  known  by  Jesus 
Christ.   For  who  could  believe  this,  after  hearing  Plato  say : 

"  dib  Kal  ra  p.eyd\a  dp.apTrip.aTa  kc\  ddiK-qpaTa  <jp.iKp6Tepov 
eivai  XPV   vop.l£eiv  Kanbv  ird(Tx€lvi  ^  Spdaai. 

"  Ovr  dp'  avTabiKetv  5e?  ovre  kclkQs  avrnrouiv  ovotva  dvdpuiwwv, 
ovS'   ai>    otiovv  irdrxxV    ^7r    o.vtu>v. 

"  Kal     0eots     &pa  £x@pbs  ecrTai    6  dSc/cos,  6  5t  dinaios  (p?\os. 

"Oi)/c  fipa  iravTwv  ye  airiov  t6  dyadbv,  d\\d  tQv  p.ev  ev  exbvTUJV 
alrjLOv,  tcDc  5e  kclklov  dvanLov. 

"Therefore,  to  suffer  the  greatest  evils  and  injustice, 
must  be  considered  a  less  evil  than  to  do  them. 

"It  is  not  right  to  return  to  man  injustice  for  injustice, 
nor  to  do  him  evil  for  evil,  no  matter  what  one  may  suffer 
from  their  hands. 

"And  to  God  the  unjust  man  is  hateful,  while  the  just 
man  is  dear  to  Him. 

"Nor  is  the  Good  (God)  the  cause  of  all  things,  but  of 
the  good  only,andnotof  the  evil."  (Epis.  vn;  Crito  x.  14, 
16;  Civitasi.  352;  11.  379.) 

Again, in  his  Civitas(i.  351), he  tells  us  that  no  state  can 
continue  to  exist  without  justice;  and  in  his  Apology 
(xxi,xxix)  ,he  says  that  evil  is  much  more  to  be  feared  than 
death,  as  death  can  not  possibly  bring  the  good  man  any 
harm,  since  it  must  bring  him  either  an  eternal  sleep,  or 
introduce  him  to  a  better  life. 

As  Merton  became  more  fully  acquainted  with  the  works 
of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  he  felt  more  and  more  offended  at  the 
shameful  injustice  done  these  great  and  noble  teachers  by 
Christian  ministers  of  all  ages.  If  the  very  essence  of  jus- 
tice consists  in  the  giving  to  each  his  own,  surely  the  aver- 
age Christian  minister  has  none  too  much  of  this  virtue. 
Sunday  after  Sunday  is  Christ  quoted  as  the  author  of  say- 


296  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

ings  and  teachings  which  had  been  said  and  taught  ages  be- 
fore he  came  into  the  world.  What  a  discovery  is  this  to  the 
sincere  and  thoughtful  soul  who  hitherto  has  imagined  that 
the  world  was  in  gross  darkness  prior  to  the  coming  of 
Christ!  Such  sayings  and  teachings  quoted  in  proof  of 
Christ's  divinity,  lose  all  their  value,  for  this  purpose,  when 
it  becomes  known  that  the  same,  or  similar,  were  taught  by 
teachers  who  had  long  preceded  him.  The  more  Merton 
studied  the  ancient  philosophers,  the  less  did  he  find  it 
necessary  to  refer  the  moral  principles  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment to  Christ  as  their  real  author;  and  the  same  may  be 
said  of  all, or  nearly  all,  its  more  distinctively  religious  prin- 
ciples. As  he  listened,  he  heard  older  voices  than  that  of 
John  the  Baptist,  crying  "Repent  ye,  for  the  kingdom  of 
heaven  is  at  hand;"  and  older  voices  than  that  of  Jesus, 
saying:  "Fear  not  little  flock,  for  it  is  your  Father's  good 
pleasure  to  give  you  the  kingdom." 

The  just  man  can  not  take  from  a  more  ancient  author 
what  is  really  his,  and  attribute  it  to  Christ;  nor  could 
Christ,  as  a  good  and  just  man,  be  pleased  at  such  robbery.. 
But  however  much  Christ  would  be  offended  at  the  act,  the 
Christian  priest  still  goes  on,  refusing  to  grant  unto  Caesar, 
in  his  poverty,  what  is  evidently  his,  although  it  be  but  to 
add  a  denarius  to  the  store  of  a  reputedly  infinite  being. 

While  I  have  here  referred  exclusively  to  ancient  philo- 
sophers, it  must  not  be  understood  thereby  that  I  lightly 
regard  the  great  benefits  resulting  from  the  spread  of  con- 
temporary science;  on  the  contrary,  I  see  in  very  many  of 
these  philosophers  great  saviors  of  humanity;  and  in  modern 
scientific  discoveries,  such  blessings  as  the  ancients  might 
have  longed  to  possess,  and  longed  in  vain.  But  I  have  re- 
ferred exclusively  to  ancient  thinkers,  lest  the  reader  should 
suppose  that  those  to  whom  reference  has  been  made, might 
have  been  affected  by  Christian  teachings  or  sentiments. 


ONE    GOD    ONE    HUMANITY.  297 

No  candid  person  can  suppose  that  Aristotle  who  died 
three  hundred  and  twenty-two  years  before  Christ  was  born, 
could  have  been  influenced  by  Christian  teaching ,  and  his 
writings  are  a  gospel  in  themselves.  Still  further  removed 
from  all  Christian  influences  was  Plato,  Aristotle's  teacher, 
who  left  the  world  three-hundred  and  forty-seven  years  be- 
fore Christ  came  into  it  ;  and  many  a  gospel  might  be  taken 
from  the  writings  of  this  noble  man,  and  not  a  little  of  the 
Christian  gospels  is  contained  therein.  Contemporary 
philosophers  have  many  advantages  over  their  ancient 
brethren  ;  nevertheless,  in  beauty  of  diction,  sublimity  of 
thought,  reverence  of  mind,  and  moral  worth,  the  ancients 
have  never  been,  and  are  not  likely  to  be,  surpassed.  What 
they  did,  they  did  well.  We  are  told  that  the  great  Lord 
Burleigh  always  carried,  in  his  breast-pocket,  Aristotle's 
Rhetoric  and  Cicero's  de  Officiis,  and  that  he  thought  these 
two  works  sufficient  "to  make  both  a  scholar  and  an  honest 
man."  In  some  respects,  however,  the  ancient  philosophers 
had  advantages  over  their  modern  brethren.  In  their  days 
the  scholar  was  more  highly  respected,  and  much  less  em- 
barrassed with  the  cares  of  a  life  whose  demands  seem  to 
increase,  as  the  years  roll  on.  Nevertheless,  he  who  would 
find  a  prophet,  or  a  preacher  of  righteousness,  or  "  the  voice 
of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness,"  can  readily  do  so  in  the 
great  and  noble  thinkers  of  the  present  age.  It  is  true,  the 
work  of  some  has  been  in  general  antagonistic  to  prevailing 
thought,  and,  therefore,  so-called  destructive  ;  but  it  should 
not  be  forgotten,  that  it  may  be  much  wiser  to  tear  down  a 
structure,  and  build  anew  on  its  foundation,  or  on  a  firmer 
one,  than  to  repair  it.  Moreover,  the  blows  these  so-called 
destructionists  have  struck,  have  been  aimed  at  images  false 
to  the  reality,  at  ideas  the  product  of  over-wrought  imagi- 
nation, at  doctrines  and  dogmas  not  founded  in  truth.  To 
such  destructionists  the  good  and  true  man  can  only  wish 


298  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

long  life  and  success,  in  their  effort  to  break  down  the 
images  "set  up  in  every  high  hill,  and  under  every  green 
tree."  But,  besides  such  writers,  the  past  century  has  wit- 
nessed many  a  constructive  worker  giving  to  the  world  gos- 
pels purified  from  the  filth  of  superstition,  and  cleansed 
from  the  foul  impurities  of  priestly  influence.  L,et  honor 
be  given  these  voices  of  God,  for  the  gospel  they  preach, 
and  the  light  they  shed  on  our  path;  but  it  should  not  be 
supposed  that  the  distructionist  is  less  honorable  than  the 
constructionist;  for  the  former  goes  before,  and  clears  the 
way,  to  make  straight  the  path  of  the  latter.  They  are  both 
great  powers  of  God;  they  are  both  his  servants  sent  forth 
with  a  message  to  a  world  boasting  of  its  light,  but  groping 
in  gross  darkness;  and  they  each  alike  help  to  bring  about 
the  day  when  all  men  shall  see  the  glory  of  God,  in  the  ele- 
vation of  the  race;  when  all  nations  shall  be  recognized  as 
God's  chosen  people,  and  not  the  Jews  and  Christians  only; 
when  the  road  to  heaven  shall  be  as  broad  as  the  pulsating 
heart  of  humanity,  beating  after  its  God;  when  the  possi- 
bility of  progress  shall  be  declared  as  continuing  as  long  as 
God  and  creation  exist.  That  day  is  fast  approaching;  and 
when  it  comes,  much  of  the  joys  of  heaven  will  be  experi- 
enced on  earth,  much  of  the  lamentations  of  hell  be  hushed 
forever.  The  more  Merton  contemplated  the  work  of  the 
great  and  good  of  old,  the  more  was  he  offended  at  a  doc- 
trine that  regards  them  as  outside  the  pale  of  God' select; 
and  the  more  he  regarded  the  purity  of  their  lives,  and 
their  love  for  truth,  the  less  he  felt  inclined  to  preach 
a  doctrine  which,  while  it  opens  wide  the  Father's 
arms  to  the  Christian  prodigal,  declares  even  the  noblest 
heathen  to  be  in  danger  of  eternal  damnation.  In 
those  thoughtful  days,  the  sense  of  the  oneness  of 
humanity  was  so  strong  in  Merton,  that  he  could  not 
doubt  that  the  love  wherewith  the  Father  loved  him,  was 
equally  extended  to  all  his  brother-men.   Even  the  thought 


ONE    GOD    ONE    HUMANITY.  299 

that  God  might  elect  the  one,  and  pass  over  the  other, 
would  give  him  pain.  He  saw  on  earth  one  great  object 
of  God's  care, humanity;  he  saw  in  the  spirit-world  one  ob- 
ject of  human  prayer  and  praise, God.  Whether  they  call 
Him  Jahve  or  Jove,  Deus  or  Zeus,  El  or  Allah,  Woden  or 
Manito,  Brahm  or  the  Spirit,  Gott  or  the  Good;  whether 
they  worship  Him  in  costly  temples,  with  priests  decked 
with  gold  and  precious  stones,  or  amidst  stately  trees,  use- 
iug  the  blue,  arched  roof  of  heaven  as  their  temple's  top; 
whether  in  deep  humility,  with  ashes  upon  their  head,  or 
with  self-inflicted  lacerations, — to  Merton  it  was  evident 
that  in  all  cases  the  intent  of  the  soul  is  the  same — the 
worship  of  Him  who,  under  however  many  names  or 
forms  He  may  be  known  or  conceived,  is  recognized  by 
all  as  the  Life,  Strength,  Lord,  Saviour,  and  Father  of 
men.  Knowing  these  things  Merton  was  loath  to  resume 
a  work,  from  the  doing  of  which  it  would  be  necessarily 
inferred,  that  either  silently  or  openly  he  admitted  that 
outside  the  Christian  church,  there  is  no  known  hope  of 
salvation.  But  through  the  persuasive  voice  of  his  wife, 
and  the  hope  that  he  might  be  allowed  to  preach  a  wider 
faith,  Merton  resumed  the  work  of  a  Christian  priest,  after 
having  passed  some  years  in  the  study  of  law  and  phil- 
osophy, and  eight  months  regaining  his  health,  on  the 
western  prairies.  Said  he:  "Perhaps  the  Lord  is  calling 
me.  I  will  spread  my  sails,  and  yield  to  the  wind  that 
drives  me;  perchance  I  may  carry  a  precious  cargo  to  feed 
the  hungry,  and  cloth  the  naked;  and  finally,  when  my 
voyage  is  over,  find  some  haven  of  rest.  Thou,  Lord, 
seest  me.  I  will  go  trusting  Thou  has  sent  me,  and  ready 
to  do  thy  will."  Nevertheless,  a  thousand  doubts  and 
fears  filled  his  breast.  He  could  not  help  remembering  a 
little  book  he  had  read  in  his  boyhood,  the  "Heavenly  Foot- 
man." But  it  seemed  that,  instead  of  having  two  spirits, 
an  evil  and  a  good  one,  he  had  a  thousand,  all  striving  to 
make  him  do  their  bidding.     But  as  in  mechanics  a  body 


300  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A  SOUI*. 

can  move  but  in  one  direction,  though  acted  upon  by  a 
thousand  forces,  so  with  Merton;  the  resultant  of  all  his 
spiritual  forces  sent  him  back  to  the  pulpit.  But  anxious 
as  he  was  to  do  the  will  of  him  who  sends  every  man  into 
the  world,  Merton  yet  felt  a  pain  at  the  thought  of  resum- 
ing pulpit  work.  Now  he  was  conscious  of  a  freedom  for 
which  he  had  often  longed.  The  broadness  of  the  prairie, 
the  clearness  of  the  sky,  the  brightness  of  the  sun  and  stars, 
the  vividness  of  the  lightning,  the  pealing  of  the  thunder, 
the  roaring  of  the  wind,  were  all  calculated  to  inspire 
independence  of  spirit  and  freedom  of  action.  As  he  look- 
ed over  the  vast  and  rolling  plains,  he  would  think  of  the 
broadness  of  God's  creation,  and  the  narrowness  of  his 
creed,  which  man  had  created;  and  often  would  determine 
to  rid  himself  of  the  shackles  which  bound  him,  and  escape 
from  the  slave-master's  coils.  The  thought  that  he  was 
free  from  bishops'  dictation,  gave  him  a  peculiar  satis- 
faction. Should  death  there  overtake  him,  it  would  find 
him  ready;  and  the  earth  that  would  receive  him,  was 
dearer  than  consecrated  ground.  No  funeral  dirge  would 
have  been  said  over  his  body;  no  hollow,  priestly  prayers 
would  have  been  given  to  the  wind.  As  he  would  have 
died  in  peace,  so  without  sham  or  pretense  would  he  have 
been  given  to  the  earth  to  await  his  lot.  Having  resumed 
his  work,  Merton,  one  morning  after  preaching  a  mission- 
ary sermon,  was  thus  addressed  by  his  wife: 
"Harry,  why  are  you  so  much  troubled?" 
"I  am  troubled,"  he  answered  "at  the  thought  of  the 
disagreement  of  my  mind  with  the  teachings  of  the  church 
at  whose  altar  I  serve.  Much  found  within  her  walls  is 
very  dear  to  me;  and  she  is  the  most  tolerant  of  orthodox 
churches.  But  when  I  think  of  the  dogmas  to  which,  as  a 
minister,  it  is  presumed  I  subscribe,  and  know  that  in  my 
soul  I  can  not  believe  them,  I  am  tossed  by  the  wild 
conflicts  within,  as  a  boat  in  a  tempest.  One  of  the  most 
painful    things    I    ever  had  to    do,    was  to  preach  that 


ONE    GOD.  ONE    HUMANITY.  30I 

sermon  on  missions,  and  take  the  offertory  for  the  general 
missionary  society.     By  such  act  it  is,  and   ought   to   be, 
understood  that  I  believe  in   missions.     The  foundation  of 
all  missionary  work   is,  that  out  of  Christ  all  nations  are  in 
a  lost  and  hopeless  state;  or,  at  least,  that  without  faith  in 
Christ  as  their  Redeemer  and  God,  there  is  no  known  salva- 
tion for  any  people.     You  know  I  do   not  believe  that  the 
so-called  heathen  nations  are  lost,  or  that  they  are  without 
a  known  salvation,   any  more  than   we  are.     I  have  often 
told  you  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  honest  and  faithful  Brahmin, 
Buddhist,  or  Mohammedan,  is  a  child  of  God,  and  heir  to  a 
better  life  after  death,  in  the  same  sense,  and  with  the  same 
right,  as  I  am.     If  there  is  any  use  in   missionary  labor,  it 
consists  only  in  the  possibility  of  giving  the  uncivilized  na- 
tions of  the  world  a  higher  form  of  life.     It  is  not  needed 
to  bring  them   into  a   state  of  salvation  ;  for   in  that  state 
every  child  of  man  is,  and  always  has  been.     If  I  believed 
otherwise,  I  should  have  to  say,  '  Poor  God  !     What  can  be 
done  for  him  !     The  happiness  of  himself  and  his  children 
is  wholly  dependent  on  the  good-will  and  activity  of    the 
missionary  society.'     All  nations  have,  as  they  believe,  their 
redeemers,  their  divine  mediators,  and  holy  revelations;  and 
this  is  all   we  can  say  for  ourselves.     We  believe  certain 
things  which  distinguish  us  as  Christians;  but  of  those  same 
things,  we  can  prove  absolutely  nothing.     In  such  belief  I 
can   put  no   real   confidence.     On   this  one  thing  I  wholly 
rely:  the  universal  fatherhood  of  God.     God   dwells  in  all 
things,  in  all  men;  and  He  is  reflected  by  each  man  as  man's 
mind    is    polished    with    intelligence,    and    his    heart   with 
purity.     All  men  receive  Him  in  some  measure;  of  this  we 
are  sufficiently  certain  from  our  knowledge  of  the  religious 
nature  of  universal  man.     The  fact  that  man  is  a  religious 
being,  is  proof  enough   that  God  is  equally  mindful  of  all. 
But  apart  from  this,  I   am  sure  that  a  just  and  good  God 


302  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

must  be  equally  mindful  of  all  his  children.  The  various 
nations  of  the  world  may  dwell  in  different  rooms,  but  they 
all  dwell  in  their  Father's  house,  and  feel  his  divine  presence; 
or,  we  might  say,  the  various  children  of  the  one  Father 
may  attend  different  classes  in  the  same  school,  but  all  have 
the  same  wise  Superintendent,  and  all  pass  from  a  lower  to 
a  higher  grade,  having  at  the  same  time,  no  matter  what 
grade  they  may  chance  be  in,  the  guidance  and  smile  of  the 
one  great  Teacher  who  careth  alike  for  all.  I  do  not  believe 
that  the  nations  without  Christ  are  lost;  nor  do  I  believe 
in  wasting  money  and  many  lives  in  forcing  on  a  na- 
tion a  form  of  religion  not  adapted  to  their  peculiar  nat- 
ure; for  our  religion  is  no  more  agreeable  to  their  nature, 
than  our  climate  is  to  their  vegetation." 

"It  would  be  hard  for  me  to  differ  with  you  who  have 
been  my  guide  and  teacher.  With  your  own  hands  did  you 
baptize  me,  and  under  your  instructions  and  ministry  was  I 
confirmed.  Most  of  the  information  I  possess,  I  have 
derived  from  you.  But  concerning  the  matters  of  which 
you  speak,  I  have  thought  the  same  nearly  all  my  life,  as 
you  think  now.  I  never  could  see,  why  a  just  and  merciful 
God  could  let  his  light  shine  on  one  mere  corner,  and  let 
the  rest  of  the  earth  remain  in  outer  darkness,  only  to  curse 
it  for  not  having  his  light.  Nor  have  I  ever  understood, 
why  a  good  and  just  God  could  rightfully  blame  any  man 
for  not  receiving  a  new  religion,  when  he  is  satisfied  of  the 
truth  of  his  own;  nor  why  He  could  rightfully  blame  a  man 
who,  finding  no  reasons  according  to  his  own  honest  con- 
victions, for  the  acceptation  of  Christ  as  God,  refuses  to 
believe  in  his  divinity,  but  lives  a  pure  and  noble  life.  For 
my  own  part,  I  believe  that  every  one  who  satisfies  his  own 
conscience  in  such  matters,  or,  in  other  words,  lives  as  he 
thinks  he  should,  will  go  to  heaven  after  death.  God  gives 
all  his  children  such  teachers   as  they  need,  and  such  light 


ONE    GOD   ONE    HUMANITY.  303 

as  their  eyes  are  best  prepared  to  receive.  To  us  he  has 
given  Christ,  and  the  light  of  his  blessed  gospel.  As  a  fol- 
lower of  Christ,  I  hope  I  may  be  worthy  of  my  many  privi- 
leges; but  nothing  can  make  me  believe  that  God  has  any 
favorites.  I  believe  the  heathens  call  God  '  Father  ; '  and  I 
doubt  not  that  they  have  the  same  right  to  do  so,  as  I  have. 
Harry,  if  I  were  you,  I  would  not  trouble  myself  so  much 
about  it.  Every  one  knows  how  good  and  noble  you  are. 
A  pure  life  is  worth  ever  so  much  theology.  Let  that  com- 
fort you  ;    and  let  theology  alone." 

"  My  darling  wife,  what  you  ask  is  an  impossibility.  It 
is  as  impossible  for  me  to  live  without  thinking,  as  with- 
out eating;  and  this  ceaseless  thought  it  is,  which  makes  my 
life  a  martyrdom.  Every  honest  minister  must  feel  that  he 
is  necessarily  bound  by  the  theology  of  the  church  to  which 
he  belongs,  as  a  prisoner  is  bound  by  his  chains.  The  lat- 
ter, as  he  tries  hard  to  break  away  from  his  shackles,  soon 
finds  the  iron  cutting  through  to  his  flesh;  and  the  former, 
as  he  tries  to  preach  a  reasonable  doctrine,  soon  finds  his 
church  dogmas  cutting  through  to  his  soul.  If  the  theology 
of  the  church  were  as  much  like  God  as  I  believe  you  are, 
Mabel,  then  I  could  gladly  receive  it;  but  your  principles  do 
not  agree  with  the  dogmas  of  the  church;  nor  is  your 
theology  that  of  the  church  to  which  you  belong.  The  truth 
is,  that  should  the  dogmas  of  the  church  get  into  your  heart, 
you  would  drive  them  out  as  you  would  a  rattle-snake  from 
your  bed-room." 

"  I  know  my  information  is  nothing  when  compared  to 
yours,  Harry.  I  suppose  this  is  the  reason  that  I  don't 
trouble  myself  about  these  matters,  as  you  do.  I  am  glad  I 
have  the  comfort  of  my  religion;  I  am  glad  I  love  the 
blessed  Jesus.  But  I  am  also  glad  I  believe  the  people  of 
heathen  countries,  who  do  the  best  they  know  how,  are 
children  of  God,  and   go  to   heaven  after  death." 


304  FOOTPRINTS   OP   A   SOUL. 

"  I  do  not  believe  in  eternal  damnation,  Sunshine,  nor 
in  the  infallibility  of  the  Scriptures;  I  do  not  believe  in  the 
vicarious  atonement  of  Christ;  I  do  not  believe  in  a  literal 
resurrection  of  the  dead;  I  do  not  believe  that  any  man, 
civilized  or  uncivilized,  who  lives,  as  he  believes,  an  hon- 
orable and  just  life,  will  be  damned;  I  do  not  believe  that 
nations  without  the  knowledge  of  Christ,  are  in  a  lost  con- 
dition; I  doubt  that  a  direct  revelation  has  ever  been  made 
from  God  to  man;  I  doubt  the  bible  which  is  exponential  of 
the  Christian  religion,  is,  in  any  real  sense,  any  more  divine 
than  the  many  other  bibles  which  are  exponential  of  the 
other  great  religions  of  the  world;  I  doubt  that  the  method 
by  which  man  was  first  brought  into  being,  was,  in  nature, 
different  from  that  by  which  other  animals  were  first 
brought  into  being, — that  is,  I  doubt  that  man  was  specially 
created;  I  doubt  very  much  that  Jesus  Christ  was  ever  born, 
in  a  real  sense,  of  a  virgin, — that  is  I  am  inclined  to  believe 
he  had  a  father  and  mother,  as  I  myself  had;  I  doubt  that  a 
miracle  has  ever  been  performed;  I  doubt  that  the  future 
state  is  fixed  and  unalterable;  I  doubt  a  localized  heaven;  I 
doubt  a  localized  hell;  I  doubt  the  existence  of  a  personal 
devil.  I  could  add  more,  but  you  have  surely  heard 
enough." 

"  Well,  Harry,  I  do  not  know;  but  I  suspect  other  schol- 
arly ministers,  if  the  truth  were  known,  have  about  the  same 
belief  in  regard  to  these  things  as  yourself;  but  you  must  do 
what  you  think  best.  Mabel  knows  you  will  do  what  is 
right;  and  I  am  perfectly  satisfied  that  God  will  never  for- 
sake you  nor  blame  you  for  being  honest  to  your  own  con- 
victions of  duty  and  truth." 

"  As  to  scholarly  ministers,  Mabel,  they  are  few  and  far 
between.  Our  ministers  are  first-class  at  smoking  cigars, 
and  drinking  wine;  but  as  to  any  real  thought,  I  assure  you, 
they  rarely  descend  below  the  surface  of  things.     That  God 


ONE    GOD   ONE    HUMANITY.  305 

will  forsake  me,  my  darling,  I  can  not  for  a  moment  think. 
I  love  Him,  hunger  and  thirst  for  Him;  and  I  pray  with  my 
whole  soul,  that  I  may  never  stray  from  the  path  wherein  He 
would  have  me  walk." 

"  Harry,  is  there  any  church  whose  principles  you  fully 
believe;  any  denomination  whose  teachings  you  wholly  and 
unreservedly  accept  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know  that  there  is,  Mabel.  My  belief  might 
be  called  simple  theism,  which  is,  and  always  has  been,  the 
religious  faith  of  the  most  learned  of  every  age.  Of  this 
statement  I  am  certain  enough.  There  are,  it  is  true,  many 
pretty  pictures  in  our  orthodox  churches,  which  are  very 
pleasing  to  the  eyes  of  the  many  who  worship  there;  but  I 
assure  you,  it  never  has  been  proved  that  those  pictures, 
however  pleasing,  ever  had  a  real  existence  outside  of  the 
diseased  or  superstitious  brain  which  originated  them.  I  con- 
sider any  and  every  religious  principle  not  sanctioned  by  sim- 
ple theism,  to  say  the  least,  doubtful.  Orthodoxy  is  a  charm- 
ing name;  but  when  examined  by  the  critical  mind,  it  appears 
equivalent  to  the  will  of  the  party  in  power,  whose  interest 
it  always  is  to  enforce  that  will  by  every  possible  sanction. 
When  I  think  of  orthodoxy,  I  imagine  a  .cow  standing  be- 
fore me.  The  tail  goes  where  the  cow  wills  it;  and  ortho- 
doxy has  depended  on  the  emperor's  wish.  I  will  here  give 
you  an  example  of  this: 

"  '  We,  the  three  emperors,  will  that  all  our  subjects 
follow  the  religion  taught  by  St.  Peter  to  the  Romans,  pro- 
fessed by  those  saintly  prelates,  Damascus,  pontiff  of  Rome, 
and  Peter,  bishop  of  Alexandria,  that  we  believe  the  one 
divinity  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost,  of  majesty  co- 
equal, in  the  Holy  Trinity.  We  will  that  all  those  who 
embrace  this  creed,  be  called  catholic  Christians;  we  brand 
all  the  senseless  followers  of  other  religions  by  the  infamous 
name  of  heretics,  and   forbid  their  conventicles  to  assume 


-p6  FOOTPRINTS    OP   A   SOUL. 


O 


the  name  of  churches;  we  reserve  their  punishment  to  the 
vengeance  of  heaven,  and  to  such  measures  as  divine  in- 
spiration shall  dictate  to  us.' 

"This,  Mabel,  is  the  edict  of  Gratian,  Valentinian  II,  and 
Theodosius,  emperors  of  Rome,  A.  D.  380.  Commenting 
on  this  edict,  Dean  Milman  says,  in  his  history  of  Christian- 
ity, '  Thus  the  religion  of  the  whole  Roman  world  was 
enacted  by  two  feeble  boys  and  a  rude  Spanish  soldier.'  It 
is  certain,  Mabel,  that  from  the  legislatures  of  the  different 
countries,  not  a  little  of  the  prestige  of  the  church  has  been 
derived.  I  remember  myself  when  no  one  ever  thought  of 
calling  the  sectarian  meeting-houses  in  England  by  the 
name  of  '  churches.'  That  name  was  exclusively  applied  to 
the  Church  of  England,  whose  ministers  were  better  known 
for  their  indolence,  and  fox-hunting  tendencies,  than  for 
any  spiritual  power  they  may  have  possessed.  Bishops 
and  priests,  more  especially  the  former,  have  been  more 
noted  as  warriors,  and  for  laxity  in  life,  than  for  their  power 
of  healing  sin-sick  souls.  Says  Lecky  :  '  In  looking  back, 
with  our  present  experience",  we  are  driven  to  the  melancholy 
conclusion  that,  instead  of  diminishing  the  number  of  wars, 
ecclesiastical  influence  has  actually  and  very  seriously  in- 
creased it.'  He  who  really  knows  the  history  of  orthodoxy, 
can  be  but  little  moved  by  its  pretensions.  I  do  not  say, 
Mabel,  that  I  have  no  faith  at  all  in  some  of  the  dogmas 
peculiarly  characteristic  of  orthodoxy;  but  I  must  say  I 
have  doubt  concerning  them.  And  it  is  because  of  these 
doubts  that  I  wish  to  take  a  rest  to  ease  my  mind  of  the 
many  disturbing  forces  which  now  so  greatly  agitate  it." 

"Your  Mabel  is  greatly  troubled  for  your  sake,  Harry. 
I  do  wish  I  could  help  you  to  clearly  determine  what  you 
should  do.  We  may  at  least  both  pray  that  God  may  lead 
you  to  decide  for  the  best." 

"  Though  faith  in  most  of  my  childhood  beliefs  grows 


ONF   GOD    ONE    HUMANITY.  307 

weaker  every  day,  Mabel,  my  faith  in  prayer,  weakens  not. 
To  God  as  to  a  father  I  am  constantly  carrying  my  doubts 
and  fears,  and  as  constantly  expecting  from  Him  a  solution. 
Between  my  desire  to  be  true  to  the  church,  and  my  desire 
to  be  true  to  my  own  convictions,  there  is  an  irrepressible 
strife  which  makes  even  existence  itself  almost  unbearable. 
In  solving  the  questions  which  produce  this  strife,  I  wish  to 
act  slowly,  but  deliberately.  I  feel  shut  up  as  it  were  in  a 
hollow  sphere,  as  I  was  in  my  dream  ;  and  as  then,  so  now, 
not  able  to  liberate  myself,  I  confidently  expect  that  God 
will  make  an  exit.  Of  one  thing  I  am  sure, — I  wish  the  will 
of  God  done  in  me  ;  for  it  is  most  reasonable  to  believe  that 
a  man  had  better  a  thousand  times  die,  than  live  in  opposi- 
tion to  his  true  and  only  real  life  ;  and  God,  in  my  opinion, 
is  the  true  life  of  the  human  soul,  apart  from  which  it  can 
but  wither  and  die,  as  the  tree  must  die,  if  up-rooted  from 
its  parent  soil." 


CHAPTER   XXXI. 

A   PRIEST   AND    A    PHYSICIAN   ON   ECCLESIASTICISM. 

Vulgus  ex  veritate  pauca^  ex  opiniofie  Jtiutta  cestimat — 
The  uneducated  judges  little  from  truth,  much  from  sentiment- 

{Cicero.) 

V/IERTON  had  now  given  the  highest  proofs  of  his 
scholarship,  having  passed  examinations,  in  leading 
universities,  for  no  less  than  five  degrees,  the  last  exam- 
ination having  been  for  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  L,aws.  He 
had  found  no  difficulty  in  completing  the  studies  leading 
to  all  of  these  degrees.  Study  was  to  him  his  great  delight. 
He  loved  it  for  the  sake  of  itself,  but  more  especially  as  the 
means  whereby  he  might  either  substantiate  or  disprove 
the  faith  of  his  childhood.  He  wanted  the  truth;  for  he 
knew  well,  as  the  blessed  Christ  says,  that  this  only  could 
make  him  free.  After  all  his  years  of  study  and  excessive 
labor,  Merton  found  that  his  faith  in  exclusively  Christian 
dogmas  was  wholly  undermined,  that  his  belief  was  un- 
tenable; but  at  the  same  time  that  his  faith  in  God  had  taken 
deeper  root.  God  alone  was  his  hiding-place;  and  in  that 
refuge  of  the  tempest-tossed  soul,  Merton  found  security 
and  rest. 

It  was  while  thinking  on  how  great  the  change  was 
that  had  passed  over  his  belief,  since  the  time  he  had  knelt 
with  his  father  in  prayer,  that  Merton  was  visited  by  his 
friend,  the  learned  Quaker  physician. 

"Well, my  friend, ' '  he  began, '  'I  see  I  find  you  musing. 
I  have  thought  much  about  you, since  hearing  your  sermon 
of  last  Sunday:  I  really  felt  deeply  for  you,  knowing  the 
conflict  raging  within.     You  once  told  me  that  the  pulpit 

was  the  best   field  for  an  able  man;  and   I  denied  that 

308 


A   PRIEST    AND    A    PHYSICIAN.  309 

it  is.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  fitting  such  a  mind  as  you  speak 
of,  only  as  a  place  to  go  to  sleep  in.  When  I  see  an  able 
man  in  the  pulpit,  I  pity  him  ;  when  I  hear  him  preach,  I 
partly  feel  the  lash  that  is  held  over  him  ;  and  when  I  hear 
him  repeat  the  creed,  I  know  his  words  assert  one  thing, 
while  in  his  heart  he  believes  another.  But  he  is  led  from 
fear  of  the  lash  and  its  consequences,  like  a  lamb  to  the 
slaughter.  On  the  other  hand,  when  I  see  one  of  your 
average  idiots  dosing  a  congregation  with,  'thus  saith  the 
Lord,'  and  '  thus  saith  the  church,  '  I  feel  as  a  part  of  nat- 
ure so  greatly  offended  at  his  almost  blasphemous  nonsense, 
that  I  curse  myself  for  a  fool  for  coming  where  priests  are 
known  to  rave.  If  the  average  preacher  could  be  only  made 
to  know  with  what  indifference  or  contempt  the  man  sitting 
in  the  seat  before  him,  receives  his  thunderings,  I  feel  con- 
fident that  he  would  be  ashamed  thereafter  to  manufacture 
his  lightnings  again."  . 

"  I  can  not  but  sympathize  with  you,  doctor,  in  your 
righteous  indignation.  I  well  remember  hearing  such  ser- 
mons myself,  and  how  they  filled  my  very  soul  with  contempt 
for  those  who  preached  them.  It  was  certain  that  the 
preacher  I  listened  to,  was  either  educated  or  not  educated. 
If  educated,  I  could  not  believe  that  his  head  admitted  the 
truth  of  his  lips,  and  I  therefore  had  a  contempt  for  him  be- 
cause of  his  insincerity,  and  lack  of  manhood  ;  if  uneducated, 
I  could  not  think  that  he  rightfully  or  worthily  filled  the 
position  he  held,  and  I  therefore  had  a  contempt  for  him  be- 
cause of  his  conceit  and  audacious  pretension.  It  was  a 
cruel  thing  for  me  in  those  days  to  hear  such  sermons  ;  for 
it  really  seemed  a  foretaste  of  the  hell  the  preacher  spoke  of. 
I  was  certain  that  the  character  of  the  God  I  worshipped, 
did  not  agree  with  that  of  the  being  the  preacher  declared  ; 
that,  therefore,  in  a  true  sense,  one  of  us  had  no  God  at  all, 
was  in  fact  an  atheist  ;  for  since  God  is  one,  He  can   not  be 


310  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

apprehended  by  two  persons  who  have  contradictory  notions 
concerning  Him.  It  is  true  I  went  to  church  generally,  and 
sat  good-manneredly  in  ray  seat ;  but  ten  thousand  needles 
and  pins  seemed  to  prick  me,  frequently  turning  the  place 
of  worship  into  one  of  martyrdom  for  me." 

"  We  have  all  had  such  feelings,  Mr.  Merton.  In  these 
days,  however,  I  rarely  go  to  church,  and  therefore  rarely 
expose  myself  to  the  martyrdom  you  speak  of.  I  have 
noticed  that  the  more  ignorant  the  preacher,  the  more  cer- 
tain he  is  concerning  those  matters  which  nobody  knows 
anything  about ;  also  the  more  groundless  the  dogma 
asserted,  the  more  vehement  is  the  preacher  in  insisting  on 
its  truth.  When  the  foremost  of  the  age  turn  their  backs 
on  a  dogma  as  contradicted  by  the  known  facts  of  science, 
and  the  deliverance  of  the  reason,  it  is  then  that  the 
preacher  rages,  and  utters  his  maledictions  against  the  un- 
godly speculations  of  science.  The  higher  reason  lifts  her 
head  beyond  the  mists  of  superstition  into  the  clear  light  of 
heaven,  discovering  the  filth  of  priestly  rags,  the  higher  the 
preacher  rises  in  his  holy  indignation,  and,  striking  the 
desk  in  his  rage,  with  one  blow  knocks  the  Humboldts  and 
Darwins  and  Huxleys  into  hades.  If  I  had  any  faith  in 
the  miracles  of  the  New  Testament,  and  wished  to  see  a 
person  possessed  of  the  devil,  as  I  go  to  a  hospital  to  look 
for  a  sick  man,  so  should  I  go  to  a  church  pulpit  to  look  for 
a  man  possessed.  What  a  logomachy  the  pulpit  is  !  One 
insists  on  immersion,  the  other  laughs  at  it ;  one  insists  on 
baptismal  regeneration,  the  other  scouts  the  idea;  the  Epis- 
copalian denies  the  validity  of  the  orders  of  the  other  great 
Protestant  bodies,  claiming  that  no  man  can  rightfully  and 
authoritatively  perform  the  functions  of  a  minister,  unless 
he  has  received  ordination  from  the  hands  of  a  bishop,  and 
they  wink  at  his  claims.  Finally  the  Roman  Catholic  denies 
the  ministerial  authority  of  any  and  all,   unless   received 


A  PRIEST  AND   A   PHYSICIAN.  311 

fiom  a  bishop  in  communion  with  the  Pope  of  Rome;  and 
even  asserts  the  hopeless  state  of  all  who  are  not  within  the 
pale  of  the  holy  Church  of  Rome.  At  this  a  howl  is  heard 
from  the  Episcopalian  officers,  seeing  their  lines  threatened 
with  confusion,  their  generalship  being  held  up  to  the 
ridicule  of  their  enemies.  What  a  great  body  of  truth  the 
church  possesses!  There  never  was  such  a  many-headed, 
dubious  monster  speaking  great  things  in  a  language 
which  nobody  understands.  I  am  glad  that  the  day  of  the 
church  is  passing,  and  that  of  reason  coming.  Ring  out 
the  old;  ring  in  the  new." 

"The  day  of  the  church  that  is,  my  dear  doctor", 
said  Merton,  "is  most  surely  passing  away;  but  like  all 
other  days  of  darkness,  it  must  be  followed  by  a  time  of 
preparation,  before  a  brighter  dawn.  Note  the  long  night 
that  intervened  between  the  passing  away  of  the  ancient 
cults  and  the  establishment  of  a  more  agreeable  faith.  Faith- 
ful ones  thought  that  their  gods  had  forsaken  them;  that 
even  Jove  would  nod  his  mighty  head  no  more  forever;  that 
the  night  which  had  fallen  upon  them,  would  be  one  of 
eternal  darkness.  At  last  day  broke,  bringing  with  its  rose- 
ate beams  a  religion  more  advanced,  more  adapted  to  the 
then  existing  civilization.  A  religion  fitted  for  the  present, 
becomes  a  superstition  to  those  that  shall  follow.  But  super- 
stitions die  hard.  They  have  their  organizations, their  drill- 
ed officers,  their  priests  and  ministers,  their  functionaries, 
all  most  vitally  interested;  these  do  not  yield  in  a  day.  You 
must  not  expect  a  too  early  ringing  out  of  the  things  that 
are,  and  a  ringing  in  of  the  things  that  are  to  be." 

"I  wait  patiently, ' '  replied  the  doctor;  '  'but  in  the  mean 
time  I  do  my  part  to  hasten  in  that  glorious  day,  by  acting 
an  honest  part,  in  joining  the  ranks  of  those  who  turn  to- 
ward the  light, and  leaving  the  hosts  of  those  who,  for  fear 
or  favor,  shroud  themselves  in  darkness." 

"Some  may  really  believe,  doctor,  what  they  preach; 


312  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

but  such  men  are  peculiarly  constituted,  being  never  given 
to  examine  seriously  the  principles  of  their  faith.  As  in- 
fants eat,  so  they  believe.  The  mother  puts  her  infant  to 
her  breast,  and  it  imbibes,  whether  the  fluid  be  fit  for  food 
or  not;  thus  with  such  men,  they  believe,  without  question, 
whatever  they  have  received,  and  even  seem  happy  and  sat- 
isfied. But  that  a  faith  makes  a  man  happy,  is  no  sufficient 
reason  for  holding  or  adopting  it.  A  man  might  have  all 
confidence  in  his  ship,  although,  unknown  to  him,  she  may 
be  fast  filling  with  water.  As  a  rule,  the  faithful  followers 
of  any  religion  are  contented  and  happy.  I  can  assure  you 
that  the  degree  of  happiness  a  religion  may  give  a  man,  has 
nothing  to  do  with  its  truth  or  falsity.  But  although  I  have 
known  some  ministers  whose  sincerity  and  truthfulness  I 
have  had  no  reason  to  doubt,  I  have  known  many  more  who 
were  insincere  and  untruthful.  Such  ministers  have  spoken 
to  me  of  their  doubts  concerning  Christ's  divinity,  who  yet 
in  their  sermons  never  breathe  such  doubts;  have  denied  to 
me  the  Trinity,  and  afterwards  in  the  pulpit  affirmed  their 
faith  in  it;  have  denied  to  me  the  personality  of  the  devil, 
and  afterwards  before  their  people  asserted  their  belief  in  it; 
denied  eternal  punishment,  and  in  their  public  utterances 
affirmed  it;  denied  the  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures,  and  on 
the  very  next  Sunday  affirmed  their  faith  in  it.  All  this  I 
have  known  them  to  do;  and  the  only  excuse  they  give,  is 
that  a  man  should  not  give  utterance  in  the  pulpit  to  his  pri- 
vate opinions.  I  tell  you,  doctor,  I  am  sick  of  the  insincer- 
ity and  hypocrisy  that  I  have  witnessed  among  ministers. 
Some  good  and  noble  men  there  are  ;  but,  as  I  have  said,  I 
do  not  believe  that' the  average  minister  is,  in  the  true  sense,, 
a  good  and  noble  man." 

"  I  have  seen  enough,  indeed,  to  assure  me  that  ministers,, 
like  others,  are  in  general  moved  by  a  short-sighted  selfish- 


A   PRIEST    AND   A    PHYSICIAN.  313 

ness  which  teaches,  that  the  welfare  of  the  bod)''  is   more 
than  that  of  the  soul." 

"And  what  good, indeed,  do  you  suppose  I  could  get  by- 
going  to  church?  Suppose  the  minister  be  a  good  man; 
what  then?  He  believes  that  his  faith  is  true;  I  am  satis- 
fied that  it  is  seriously  to  be  questioned.  What  help  or  con- 
solation could  I  receive  from  such  a  man  ?  I  answer,  I 
could  receive  none  whatever,  but  rather  irritation.  The 
justice  and  greatness  of  his  god,  is  the  injustice  and  little- 
ness of  mine.  The  blood  of  Calvary  has  a  sweet- smelling 
savor  to  him;  to  me  it  represents  an  intentional  and  wilful 
homicide.  The  immaculate  conception,  the  deity  of  Christ, 
vicarious  atonement,  the  doctrine  of  election,  eternal  bless- 
edness, eternal  damnation,  the  call  of  Abraham,  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  body,  the  choice  by  God  of  the  Jews  and  Chris- 
tians, apostolic  succession,  —  these  are  some  of  the  beliefs 
which  give  him  comfort;  but  these  same  beliefs  cause  me 
pain  and  disgust  —  they  are  an  offence  to  me.  If  you  ask 
me  to  believe  in  the  immaculate  conception,  I  am  offended: 
you  might  as  well  ask  me  to  walk  on  my  head.  In  the  latter 
case  I  would  answer,  it  is  not  the  natural  mode  of  locomo- 
tion ;  in  the  former  case  I  would  answer,  it  is  not  a  natural 
explanation.  If  you  ask  me  to  believe  in  the  elect  charac- 
ter of  the  Jews  and  Christians,  I  am  disgusted  and  offended; 
you  might  as  well  ask  me  to  believe  that  God  is  unjust  and 
wicked.  If  you  ask  me  to  believe  in  vicarious  atonement, 
eternal  damnation,  or  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  you  ask 
what  a  reasonable  man  can  not  do:  you  might  as  well  ask  me 
to  believe  that  there  are  more  gods  than  one,  or  that  the  one 
God  is  self-contradictory.  No,  indeed,  I  am  gone  further 
than  ever  from  such  beliefs.  I  can  not  believe  anything  of 
God,  which  is  contradicted  by  his  visible  works;  I  can  not 
believe  anything  of  the  works  of  God,  which  is  contradicted 
by  every-day  experience.     Talking  a  few  days  ago  with  one 


314  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

of  our  ablest  judges  the  other  day,  he  said,  "The  fact  is, 
my  friend,  the  dogmas  of  the  Christian  church  are  absurd. 
It  is  my  belief  that  in  a  few  years  they  will  be  universally 
rejected.  They  are  an  insult  to  the  thinking  mind.  Had 
it  not  been  for  the  strenuous  efforts  of  the  parties  inter- 
ested, and  the  credulity  of  the  ignorant,  they  would  pass 
away  in  a  generation.  I  believe,  Merton,  in  one  God  who 
is  the  Father  of  all.  This  God  has  no  elect.  All  religions 
come  from  him,  as  all  warmth  comes  from  the  same  sun. 
But  as  the  sun's  heat,  although  scattered  equally  in  all 
directions,  is  not  equally  felt  in  all  places,  depending  on  our 
nearness  to  the  sun,  and  the  absence  of  intervening  sub- 
stances; so  God's  revelation  of  himself,  though  given  to  all 
and  everywhere  alike,  is  not  equally  felt,  nor  in  the  same 
manner  expressed,  by  all,  this  depending  on  the  character 
of  the  man,  and  his  degree  of  cultivation.  But  all  religions 
come  from  God ;  and  all  do  good,  in  their  time  and  place. 
The  coarse  and  bloody  religion  is  adapted  to  the  coarse 
and  bloody  man.  He  who  conceives  of  God  as  having  hu- 
man characteristics,  will  have  such  a  religion  as  his  own 
mind  might  be  the  author  of.  But  as  all  flowers  will  not 
grow  in  the  same  soil,  so  such  low,  gross,  and  bloody  con- 
ceptions of  the  Deity  can  find  no  acceptation  with  me. 
We  all  see  with  our  own  eyes;  we  all  think  with  our  own 
minds;  and  the  ability  to  think  correctly  depends,  of  course, 
on  the  character  and  amount  of  our  education.  I  am  per- 
fectly satisfied  that  neither  the  confidence  a  person  has  in 
his  faith,  nor  the  degree  of  happiness  he  derives  from  it, 
has  anything  to  do  with  its  truth  or  falsity.  It  is  certain 
that  base  actions,  and  false  ideas  often  give  us  most  happi- 
ness; while  noble  actions,  and  correct  ideas  frequently 
bring  us  pain.  I  believe  with  you  that  the  only  test  of  a 
religion  is  its  reasonableness.  A  reasonable  religion  may  be 
false,  I'll  admit;  but  I  am  certain  that  an  unreasonable  one 


A   PRIEST   AND   A   PHYSICIAN.  315 

can  not  be  true.  For  it  is  evident  that,  if  anything  un- 
reasonable can  come  from  God,  He  must  remain  unknow- 
able to  us,  since  we  have  only  our  reason  whereby  to  know 
Him.  If  some  one  says:  'Not  so;  we  have  the  Scriptures 
whereby  to  know  Him.'  I  might  answer:  'You  receive  the 
Scriptures  only  because  you  believe  they  are  reasonable.' 
Thus  there  is  no  way  to  deny  the  fact,  that  reason  remains 
the  only  power  whereby  we  can  know  God;  or  that,  if  God 
be  unreasonable,  He  must  remain  unknown  to  us.  But 
since  the  Christian  and  most  of  the  non-Christian  world  be- 
lieve that  God  is  known,  they  must  admit  his  reasonable 
character.  Therefore  I  say,  as  you  said  last  Sunday  in 
your  sermon,  that  although  all  religions  have  their  root  in 
God,  the  unreasonable  parts  of  them  have  their  roots  in 
foolish-minded  humanity  only,  and  that  such  parts  are 
therefore  false,  and  should  be  rejected  by  the  thinking 
mind." 

"In  my  opinion,  doctor,"  replied  Merton,  "your  con- 
clusions are  valid.  But  let  me  beg  you  to  remember  that 
although  there  is  a  lot  of  chaff  in  so-called  religion,  there  is 
also  not  a  little  wheat.  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  our  conver- 
sation must  now  end,  as  I  have  some  parish  duties  to  per- 
form. ' ' 

Merton  felt  conscious  that  the  words  of  the  text  of 
the  sermon  to  which  the  doctor  in  his  conversation  had 
made  reference,  did  not  agree  with  his  own  belief,  nor 
with  the  highest  reason  of  the  age.  His  views  were  daily 
broadening:  he  saw  less  and  less  of  the  miraculous;  he 
was  becoming  more  and  more  a  child  of  nature.  Yet,  in 
the  text  referred  to,  he  saw  a  beautiful  truth  conveyed,  as 
it  were,  in  a  fairy  tale.  This  truth  he  sought  to  appre- 
hend; and  as  he  believed  he  apprehended  it,  he  declared  it 
to  his  people,  not  only  to  direct  them  in  religious  matters, 
but  also  to  guide  them  into  truth ;  for  without  the  latter, 


3IO  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A  SOUL. 

the  former  becomes  but  baneful  superstition.  Truth  may  be 
possessed  without  religion;  but  religion  can  not  be  possessed 
without  truth.  In  his  study  Merton  was  ever  confronted 
with  the  growing  contradictions  between  science  and  reli- 
gion ;in  his  pulpit,  between  those  of  reason  and  dogma.  Min- 
isters and  commentators  he  found  bending  the  Old  Testa- 
ment to  suit  the  requirements  of  the  New;  and  having  suc- 
ceeded in  this  base  work,  bending  the  New  to  suit  the 
exigencies  of  their  respective  creeds.  Everywhere  he  cast 
his  eyes,  he  beheld  dogmas  ready  to  break,  and  the  eccle- 
siastics who  were  supported  by  them,  patching  them  up. 
The  inner-world, the  reason, he  saw  at  war  with  the  outer- 
world,  ecclesiastical  dogma;  and  ecclesiastical  dogmas,  at 
war  with  one  another.  While  the  people  of  the  parish 
were  no  better  than  others,  no  more  honorable,  dutiful,  or 
charitable,  he  was  still  more  troubled  at  knowing  that  the 
position  he  claimed,  and  the  dogmas  he  asserted,  could 
not  be  sustained  with  satisfactory  credentials.  The  occur- 
rences he  asserted  in  the  creed  w7ere  stupendous;  but  the 
evidence  upon  which  they  were  based,  were  puerile, absurd. 
He  clearly  saw  that  to  ask  a  man  to  accept  the  creed  on 
the  usual  interpretation,  is  no  less  unreasonable  than  to 
expect  him  to  infer  that  a  mountain  has  been  in  labor,  to 
explain  the  existence  of  the  progeny  of  a  mouse.  The 
more  he  looked  for  proof  of  the  occurrences  asserted  in  the 
creed,  the  further  he  found  himself  from  the  object  of  his 
search.  Whatever  he  sought  to  solve  by  a  supernatural 
explanation,  he  readily  saw  was  much  more  reasonably 
solved  by  a  natural  one.  In  his  mind  he  beheld  Reason 
carrying  a  key  with  which  she  unlocked  the  doors  that  led 
by  labyrinthian  ways  to  the  dark  hiding-places  of  ecclesi- 
astical dogmas.  He  saw  her  enter,  and  shed  on  their 
monstrous  forms  the  blazing  light  of  her  own  radiant 
countenance  effulgent  with  light  divine.  As  she  approach- 


A   PRIEST   AND    A    PHYSICIAN.  317 

ed,  they  cried:  "What  have  we  to  do  with  thee?  Art  thou 
come  hither  to  torment  us  before  the  time?"  and,  crouch- 
ing in  their  lairs,  sought  to  conceal  themselves  in  still 
deeper  darkness;  but  at  her  look  they  were  filled  with 
consternation,  and  at  her  touch  were  paralyzed.  One  by 
one,  by  the  might  of  her  own  arm,  did  she  drag  them 
forth,  and  decapitate  them,  hurling  their  lifeless  forms  into 
the  outer-darkness  of  superstition,  where  they  first  had 
received  their  life.  There  those  many-headed  giants  lay, 
without  hope  of  a  resurrection.  The  priests  of  the  world 
went  in  mourning;  but  Liberty  and  Truth  clothed  them- 
selves in  gorgeous  apparel,  singing:  "Alleluia!  for  the 
L,ord  God  Omnipotent  reigneth." 

With  all  his  uncertainty  and  trembling,  Merton  yet 
hesitated  to  renounce  his  faith.  He  felt  unwilling  to 
grieve  his  friends.  He  knew  that  false  as  many  of  the 
dogmas  were,  he  was  yet  accomplishing  some  good  in  the 
work  he  was  doing;  and  he  desired  to  search  more  fully 
into  the  foundations  of  his  faith,  before  giving  it  up,  lest 
too  sudden  action  might  bring  him  repentance: 

Lasst  uns  audi  diesmal  dock  nur  die  Mittehtrasse  betreten  ! 
Mile  mit  Weile!  das  zvar  selbst  Kaiser  Augustus'1  Devise. 

{Goethe;  Her.  and  Dor.  81.) 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

ON  THE   RESURRECTION. 

He  that  goeth  down  to  the  grave  shall  come  up  no  more. 

{yob  vit.  g) 
HpO  him  who  faithfully  studies  the  origin  of  Christianity, 
and  the  work  and  position  of  the  early  Christian 
church,  it  will  be  apparent  that  the  beginnings  of  Christi- 
anity were  laid  in  strife,  and  that  strife  was  the  common 
heritage  of  all  those  who  in  early  days  labored  to  spread 
the  new  doctrine.  The  words  put  by  Matthew  into  the 
mouth  of  Christ:  "I  came  not  to  send  peace  but  a 
sword,"  were  certainly  verified  in  the  development  of  the 
early  church.  Husbands  and  wives  were  estranged, 
parents  and  children  separated,  brotherly  ties  broken,  and 
friends  made  enemies.  Such  results  must  have  followed, 
and  must  always  follow,  the  renunciation  of  one's  own 
religion  for  the  sake  of  some  new  and  untried  faith.  Fierce 
and  long  was  the  strife  the  teachers  of  the  new  religion  wag- 
ed, and  strong  was  the  opposition  brought  to  bear  against 
them,  before  Christianity  can  be  said  to  have  felt  secure 
in  its  position.  This  time  of  felt  security  did  not  come  be- 
fore near  the  close  of  the  second  century.  The  great  gen- 
eral, strategist,  organizer,  and  dialectician,  in  this  early 
strife,  was  Saul  of  Tarsus,  or  Paul.  It  is  to  this  earnest, 
shrewd,  and  laborious  worker  that  the  Christian  church 
owes  a  debt  it  can  never  pay;  for  without  him  it*  is  doubt- 
ful if  it  could  have  held  together,  or  even  been  established 
at  all.  As  Prof.  Pfleiderer  of  Berlin  says,  it  was  through 
Paul  that  Christianity  became  recognized  as  the  universal, 
world  religion;  and  this  recognition  was  won  only  after  a 
long  and  bitter  strife  with  the  Jewish  body  in  the  primitive 

church. 

318 


THE   RESURRECTION.  319 

The  dogmas  of  the  early  church  were,  as  the  dogmas 
of  the  church  always  will  be,  matters  of  contention;  and 
among  those  that  received,  and  must  receive,  the  strong- 
est opposition,  is  that  of  the  resurrection  ot  the  dead. 

The  early  opposition  to  this  dogma  is  evident  enough 
from  what  is  recorded  in  St.  Mark,  the  most  trust  worthy 
of  all  the  gospels:  "Then  came  unto  him  the  Sadducees, 
which  say  there  is  no  resurrection."  The  Sadducees  were 
a  Jewish  sect,  who  held  strictly  and  exclusively  to  the 
written  Law.  This  written  law,  the  Pentateuch,  never 
mentions  in  any  instance  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  of 
the  dead.  Not  only  does  it  not  give  a  hope  of  a  resurrec- 
tion, but  one  may  search  its  pages  in  vain  for  a  single  word 
teaching  the  immortality  of  the  soul.  If  the  great  law- 
giver himself  believed  in  a  resurrection,  or  even  in  the 
immortality  of  the  soul,  it  is  certain  that  he  has  left  us  no 
evidence  of  such  belief;  and  in  the  answer  which  Christ  is 
said  to  have  given  the  Sadducees,  nothing  can  be  found 
clearly  to  establish  belief  in  the  resurrection.  If  Moses 
had  taught  this  doctrine, surely  Christ  must  be  supposed  to 
have  known  it,  and  knowing  it,  it  can  not  be  doubted  that 
he  would  have  quoted  the  strongest  text  possible.  But 
the  words  which  Christ  is  said  to  have  spoken,  can  hardly 
be  construed  as  giving  any  strong  hopes  of  the  resurrection, 
or  as  strengthening  to  any  great  extent  our  faith  in  that 
doctrine.  What  Christ  says  is  at  most  only  an  inference 
which  one  might  make,  provided  it  be  granted  that  the 
doctrine  in  question  be  true.  The  question  itself  was  left 
by  Christ  where  the  Sadducees  affirmed  it  had  always  been 
and  was,  namely,  among  the  many  suppositions  which 
man  labors  to  establish,  but  labors  in  vain. 

That  the  infant  church  was  at  strife  about  this  dogma, 
is  evident  enough  from  Paul's  words  to  the  early  Christi- 
ans: "How  say  some  among  you  that  there  is   no  resur- 


320  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

rection  of  the  dead. ' '  That  the  best  educated  considered 
such  doctrine  without  warrant,  is  certain  from  the  manner 
in  which  Paul  was  received  by  them:  "Then  certain  phil- 
osophers of  the  Epicureans  and  of  the  Stoics  encountered 
him.  And  some  said,  what  will  this  babbler  say?  other 
some,  He  seems  to  be  a  setter  forth  of  strange  gods:  be- 
cause he  preached  unto  them  Jesus  and  the  resurrection. 
And  as  he  thus  spake,  Festus  said  with  aloud  voice,  Paul, 
thou  art  beside  thyself;  much  learning  doth  make  thee 
mad. ' ' 

Disbelief  in  this  dogma  did  not  die  through  the  efforts 
of  Paul;  for  Clement,  the  first  of  the  apostolic  fathers,  sup- 
posed to  have  been  a  disciple  of  Paul,  found  it  necessary 
to  strengthen  the  faith  of  his  followers  in  the  doctrine  of 
the  resurrection.  The  proofs,  however,  which  this  good 
father  adduced  for  it,  were  not  unlike  those  the  church 
fathers  adduced  for  other  beliefs.  To  establish  this  doc- 
trine Clement  tells  us  that:  "Day  and  night  declare  to  us  a 
resurrection.  Let  us,"  he  says,  "behold  the  fruits  of  the 
earth.  The  sower  goes  forth,  and  casts  the  seed  into  the 
ground;  and  the  seed  being  thus  scattered,  though  dry  and 
naked  when  it  fell  upon  the  earth,  is  gradually  dissolved. 
Then  out  of  its  dissolution  the  mighty  power  of  the  provi- 
dence of  the  Lord  raises  it  up  again,  and  from  one  seed 
many  arise  and  bring  forth  fruit.  There  is  a  certain  bird 
which  is  called  a  phoenix.  This  is  the  only  one  of  the  kind 
and  lives  for  a  hundred  years.  When  the  time  of  its  dis- 
solution draws  near,  it  builds  itself  a  nest  of  frankincense 
and  myrrh,  and  other  spices,  into  which  it  enters, and  dies. 
But  as  the  flesh  decays  a  certain  kind  of  worm  is  produced, 
which,  being  nourished  by  the  juices  of  the  dead  bird, 
brings  forth  feathers.  Then  when  it  has  acquired  strength, 
it  takes  up  that  nest  in  which  are  the  bones  of  its  parent, 
and  bearing  these  it  passes  from  the  land  of  Arabia  into 


THE   RESURRECTION.  32 1 

Egypt,  to  the  city  called  Heliopolis.  And  in  open  day, 
flying  in  the  sight  of  all  men,  it  places  them  on  the  altar 
of  the  sun,  and  having  done  this  hastens  back  to  its  for- 
mer abode.  Do  we  then  deem  it  wonderful  for  the  Maker 
of  all  things  to  raise  up  those  again  that  have  piously 
served  Him,  when  even  by  a  bird  He  shows  us  his  power 
to  fulfil  his  promise?"  (Epistle  1.  24,  25,  26).  Such  is 
the  proof  that  this  great  Father  gives  us  for  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  dead.  It  is  hard  to  think  that  any  man  could 
be  guilty  of  such  folly;  but  not  only,  as  we  see,  was  Cle- 
ment guilty  of  it;  but  Tertullian  also,  and  others  of  the 
Fathers,  give  us  similar  arguments  to  substantiate  this 
nature-contradicting  dogma.  In  the  return  of  day  and 
night,  the  man  of  common  sense  sees  nothing  else  than  a 
necessary  result  of  the  earth's  diurnal  rotation;  and  in  the 
growth  of  vegetation  from  the  seed,  it  is  well  known  that 
there  is  no  death,  and  therefore  no  resurrection.  Nothing 
will  grow  from  a  dead  seed.  At  the  time  of  sowing,  the 
embryotic  plant  is  alive.  It  needs  only  a  little  to  enable 
its  encased  life  to  burst  its  barriers,  and  become  a  thing  of 
beauty  and  usefulness;  and  this  little  it  finds  on  being 
buried  in  the  soil.  Its  transformation  from  seed  to  plant, 
is  as  simple  and  real,  as  is  the  growth  of  the  chicken  from 
the  egg.  In  each  case  there  is  no  break  in  life's  continu- 
ity, no  cessation  of  life's  activities.  With  regard  to  what 
Clement  says  of  the  phoenix,  it  would  be  foolishness  to  say 
anything.  His  credulity  must  have  been  amazingly  great 
to  adduce  a  myth  in  proof  of  such  a  stupendous  miracle. 
One  cannot  fail,  however,  to  recognize  the  fact  that  the 
testimony  of  such  writers  must  be  received  with  the  great- 
est caution. 

A  little  after  Clement,  Polycarp  speaks  of  the  doctrine 
of  the  resurrection;  but  makes  110  attempt  to  adduce  any 
proof  by  way  of  substantiating  it.     Another  of  the  apos- 


322  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

tolic.  Fathers,  Justin  Martyr,  who  died  near  the  end  of  the 
second  century,  found  it  necessary  to  write  apologies  for 
the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  In  these  apol- 
ogies Justin  admits  that  even  the  resurrection  of  Christ 
was  denied  by  some  Christians:  "And  there  are  some,"  he 
says,  "who  maintain  that  even  Jesus  himself  appeared  only 
as  spiritual,  and  not  in  flesh,  but  presented  merely  the  ap- 
pearance of  flesh. ' '  After  much  useless  argument,  the  only 
proof  of  the  doctrine  adduced  by  Justin,  is  the  alleged 
resurrection  of  Christ,  the  actuality  of  which,  as  he  admits 
but  a  moment  before,  was  denied  by  many. 

Another  great  church  Father,  Irenseus,  who  died 
about  the  end  of  the  second  century,  endeavors  to  show 
the  reasonableness  of  faith  in  the  resurrection  of  the  dead, 
in  these  words:  "For  if  God  does  not  vivify  what  is  mor- 
tal, and  does  not  bring  back  the  corruptible  to  incorrup- 
tion,  He  is  not  a  God  of  power.  Surely  it  is  much  more 
difficult  and  incredible  from  non-existent  bones, and  nerves, 
and  veins,  and  the  rest  of  man's  organization,  to  make 
man  an  animated  and  rational  creature,  than  to  reintegrate 
again  that  which  had  been  created  and  then  afterwards 
decomposed  into  earth.  Let  them  inform  us,  when  they 
maintain  the  incapacity  of  the  flesh  to  receive  the  life 
granted  by  God,  whether  they  say  these  things  as  being 
living  men  and  partakers  of  life.or  acknowledge  that  having 
no  part  in  life, they  are  at  the  present  moment  dead  men." 
(Against  Heresies  in).  In  another  place  the  same 
author  speaks  of  the  growth  of  the  seed  from  the  plant  as 
showing  the  probability  of  the  resurrection. 

Tatian,  one  of  the  early  church  writers,  while  not  at- 
tempting to  give  any  reasons  for  his  belief,  states  his  faith 
in  these  words:  "For  just  as,  not  existing  before  I  was 
born,  I  know  not  who  I  was,  and  only  existed  in  the  po- 
tentiality of  fleshly  matter,  but  being  born  after  a  former 


THE   RESURRECTION.  323 

state  of  nothingness,  I  have  obtained  through  my  birth  a 
certainty  of  my  existence;  in  the  same  way  having  been 
born,  and  through  death  existing  no  longer,  I  shall  exist 
again.  For  God  will  restore  the  substance  to  its  pristine 
condition." 

Theophilus,  another  apologist  for  the  resurrection,  and 
writing  about  the  close  of  the  second  century,  bases  his 
argument  on  the  growth  of  seeds  and  fruits,  and  on  the 
recovery  of  the  body  after  sickness. 

About  the  end  of  the  second  century,  Athenagoras  al- 
so wrote  what  is  called  by  some  a  noble  treatise  on  the  res- 
urrection. In  this  work  he  tells  us  that  the  resurrection  is 
made  probable  because  of  the  changes  which  occur  in  man' s 
body  during  life;  because  judgment  must  have  reference  to 
the  body  as  well  as  the  soul;  because  without  a  resurrec- 
tion man  would  be  less  favorably  situated  than  the  beast  ; 
because  the  resurrection  of  the  body  is  necessary  to  man's 
perfection;  because  unless  there  be  a  resurrection,  the  same 
soul  could  not  in  any  other  way  possess  the  same  body. 

Tertullian,  who  died  about  220,  and  who  states  that  for 
one  to  assert  the  resurrection  of  the  body  was  to  incur  the 
risk  of  being  stoned  to  death,  gives  us  in  his  apology  for 
the  resurrection  almost  the  same  reasons  as  Clement.  In 
his  Address  to  the  Nations  he  tells  them  that  Christians 
take  for  granted  a  resurrection;  and  that  hope  in  this  res- 
urrection amounts  to  a  contempt  of  death.  In  his  Address 
against  Marcion,  who  denied  the  resurrection,  Tertullian's 
chief  work  is  to  quote  texts  in  proof  that  Marcion  was  a 
heretic;  but  he  fails  in  every  way  to  give  the  thoughtful 
Marcion  any  reasonable  grounds  for  abjuring  his  heresy. 

In  the  middle  of  the  third  century  the  famous  Origen 
wrote  on  the  resurrection  against  Celsus,  who  denied  its 
possibility.  In  his  argument  Origen  states  that  the  doctrine 
of  the  resurrection  is  a  great  mystery,  that  it  is  a  high  and 


324  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

difficult  doctrine,  and  one  which  more  than  others  requires 
an  advanced  degree  of  wisdom;  but  he  fails  to  make  the 
mystery  any  more  clear;  or  to  give  us  any  stronger  reasons 
for  believing  in  it. 

Minucius  Felix,  writing  about  the  middle  of  the  third 
century,  assures  us  that  the  resurrection  is  proved  by  the 
whole  course  of  nature.  Arnobius,  who  wrote  at  the  end 
of  the  third  century,  says  it  is  symbolized  in  Pluto's  myth; 
and  Methodius,  who  died  early  in  the  fourth  century,  de- 
clares it  is  even  paralleled  by  the  generation  of  man.  In 
the  Constitution  of  the  Holy  Apostles,  an  early  Christian 
production,  we  are  told  that  the  sibylline  books  testify  to 
a  resurrection.  L,actantius  also,  in  his  Divine  Institutes 
written  about  the  middle  of  the  fourth  centu^,  refers  to 
these  books  in  proof  of  a  resurrection.  While  referring 
thus  to  the  sacred  books  of  the  people  whose  religion  the 
Christians  denounced,  Lactantius,  nevertheless,  speaks 
more  dogmatically  than  his  predecessors,  declaring  that  on 
the  resurrection  day,  God  will  visit  the  unbeliever  with  the 
most  awful  punishments,  while  the  believer  is  raised  to 
everlasting  blessedness;  nor  does  he  hesitate  to  set  forth 
minutely  the  different  ways  in  which  the  infinite  and  lov- 
ing God  will  seek  to  avenge  himself  on  the  helpless  but 
unbelieving  creatures   whom  his  own  hands  have  made. 

We  have  mentioned  the  chief  church  writers  during  the 
first  four  hundred  years,  and  given  their  reasons  for  be- 
lieving in  the  resurrection  of  the  dead;  but  out  of  all  these 
reasons  we  have  been  unable  to  find  even  one  that  gives  us 
any  reasonable  ground  for  faith  in  the  dogma  of  the  resur- 
rection. Most  of  these  reasons  are  too  childish  to  mention; 
the  rest  are  partly  mere  repetitions  of  irrelative  facts,  and 
partly  quotations  whose  truth  remains  unproved  and  un- 
provable. Why  is  it  that  after  nineteen  hundred  years  of 
preaching  and  threatening,  the  most  enlightened  minds  of 


THE   RESU-RRECTION.  325 

the  world  are  unable  really  to  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  the 
resurrection?  Is  it  because  of  wilful  refusal?  Is  it  because 
of  a  desire  that  the  dogma  should  be  false?  Neither  of 
these  can  possibly  be  the  reason;  for  man  is  predisposed  to 
faith  in  the  resurrection. 

The  cause  of  this  predisposition  is  not  far  to  find;  and 
the  result  of  this  predisposition  enables  the  priest  to  sow 
his  dogmatic  seed  on  many  a  piece  of  fallow  ground,  that 
brings  forth  a  thousand-fold.  Man  is  a  very  self-conceit- 
ed animal;  and  the  labors  of  dogmatists,  moralists,  and 
psychologists,  moved  in  general  by  the  same  motives  of 
gain,  or  prevented  from  acting  sincerely  and  boldly  through 
the  fear  of  estranging  their  friends,  or  of  the  loss  of  pres- 
tige, have  greatly  strengthened  man  in  this  conceit.  In  his 
studies,  true  enough,  he  is  frequently  brought  face  to  face 
with  the  fact  that  zoology  classifies  him  as  a  member  of 
the  animal  kingdom,  a  single  limb  of  a  common  tree,  a 
branch  of  a  common  stock ;  but  he  is  not  a  little  offended 
at  any  attempt  to  subject  him  to  the  natural  results  of  such 
a  classification.  His  admission  that  he  belongs  to  the 
animal  world,  is  a  mere  lordly  condescension,  or  an  ad- 
mitted relation  which  he  feels  he  may  at  any  time  deny. 
Nor  is  such  a  feeling  of  superiority  at  all  to  be  wondered 
at,  as  it  is  one  which  manifests  itself,  more  or  less,  through 
every  plane  and  sphere  of  life,  and  is  undoubtedly  coexten- 
sive with  the  whole  animal  world.  With  the  increase  of  in- 
telligence, we  are  sure,  comes  the  decrease  of  this  feeling  of 
greatness;  but  rare  indeed  is  he  who  is  willing  to  admit 
either  his  own  ignorance,  or  the  insignificant  part  he  plays 
in  the  world  of  being.  Man  is  ever  willing,  as  Cicero,  to 
magnify  the  worth  of  his  deeds,  and  to  imagine  that  his 
name  will  be  held  in  honor  by  the  generations  to  come ; 
that  he  will  be  called  "wonderful  counsellor,"  after  the 
names  and  vain  doings  of  his  contemporaries  shall  have 


326  FOOTPRINTS  OF   A  SOUL. 

been  lost  in  oblivion.  No  word  in  the  English  language  is 
smaller  than  the  pronoun,  I;  but  on  the  other  hand  no  other 
word  is  regarded  by  us  as  having  such  a  precious  content; 
and  anything  and  everything  which  in  our  judgment 
tends  to  increase  the  value  of  this  content,  is  eagerly  accept- 
ed. We  are  in  haste  to  find  out  the  abode  of  a  rich  and 
influential  relative;  but  we  are  more  than  willing  to  let  the 
home  of  the  poor  and  lowly  one  remain  unknown  to  us. 
While  a  few  of  us  may  not  seek  to  be  flattered;  all  want  to 
be  praised,  or  regarded  as  superior  to  our  own  fellows. 
Having  such  a  feeling  of  superiority,  it  is  not  at  all  strange 
that  many  are  found  willing  to  subscribe  to  the  dogma  of 
the  resurrection,  even  though,  at  the  same  time,  fearing 
that  they  really  are  but  members  of  the  animal  world,  they 
despair  of  the  truth  of  the  dogma;  or  that  so  many  sit  pas- 
sively in  their  own  pews  while  their  ministers  make  their 
unproved  and  unprovable  assertions,  and  fulminate  their 
anathemas  against  unbelief  and    unbelievers. 

Man  is  predisposed  to  believe  in  the  resurrection  also, 
because  of  a  desire  of  a  reunion  after  death.  If  the  res- 
urrection of  the  body  were  really  necessary  to  a  reunion 
after  death  with  our  departed  friends,  in  the  highest  and 
truest  sense,  then  I  for  one  should  be  inclined  at  least  to 
hope  for  it;  but  since  it  can  not  be  shown  that  this  reunion 
after  death  is  at  all  conditioned  on  the  resurrection  of  the 
body,  I  should  certainly  be  foolish  to  entertain  any  such 
delusive  hope  against  science  and  reason.  Belief  in  the 
resurrection,  however,  based  on  the  desire  of  again  being 
with  those  we  have  so  much  loved,  is  at  least  founded  on 
something  else  than  conceit.  Indeed,  scarcely  could  a 
noble  man  be  blamed  for  indulging  such  a  hope,  even 
though  there  were  no  vested  priest,  nor  mitered  bishop, 
and  church  bell  had  never  tolled;  for  true  love  is  not  sel- 
fish, but  seeks  another's  good.     It  labors  not  to  sound  the 


THE   RESURRECTION.  327 

praise  of  self,  nor  to  magnify  one's  own  superiority.  It  is 
the  fairest  tree  in  the  garden  of  God,  but  it  is  grafted  on 
another;  and  all  the  flowers  it  bears,  and  the  perfume  it 
sheds,  are  used  to  beautify  and  make  redolent  the  life  of 
another.  The  beauty  and  worth  of  friendship  can  never 
be  overestimated;  it  is  a  principle  truly  divine,  full  of 
solace,  full  of  hope;  yet,  how  much  more  praise- worthy  and 
holy  is  that  all-over-powering  love  which  man  feels  for  the 
woman  in  whom  the  forces  of  his  being  are  centered.  O 
woman,  thou  art  God's  true  high-priest,  his  faithful  pro- 
phet and  teacher,  and  his  most  blessed  angel!  Without  thee 
the  sun  does  lose  its  potent  heat,  the  earth  its  greenness, 
and  the  heart  its  buoyant  hope.  When  moved  by  this  holy 
force  of  love  two  noble  hearts  that  have  beaten  together 
in  joys  and  sorrows,  are  riven  asunder  by  the  strong  arm 
of  Death;  when  beauty,  and  hope,  and  consolation  are 
taken  away  from  man,  is  it  any  wonder  that  he  should 
yield  a  willing  assent  to  the  dogma  of  the  resurrection. 
Indeed,  having  such  fallow  ground  and  fruitful  soil,  the 
wonder  is,  not  that  the  church  should  have  succeeded  in 
making  so  many  believe  in  the  doctrine,  but  rather  that 
her  success  should  be  so  limited,  and  the  believers  in  the 
dogma  so  few.  But  the  reader  may  contend  that  the  be- 
lievers in  this  dogma  are  not  few;  that  multitudes  assert 
their  belief  in  it  two  or  more  times  each  week,  by  the  re- 
petition of  the  Creed.  Our  reply  is,  that  repeating  the 
Creed  is  not  believing  in  it.  A  few  months  ago  a  lady,  who 
was  an  Episcopalian  and  had  been  all  her  life,  told  me 
that  though  she  had  repeated  the  Creed  year  after  year, she 
had  never  been  able  in  her  heart  really  to  believe  in  it ;  and 
the  writer  knows  that  the  acknowledged  disagreement  be- 
tween the  heart  and  lips  of  this  woman  was  not  peculiar 
to  her,  but  is  one  that  is  most  common  to  professors  in 
general. 


328  FOOTPRINTS    OF  A  SOUL. 

In  showing  the  improbability  of  the   resurrection  of 
the  dead,  we  may  state  first  that — 
Man  is  a  Member  of  the  Animal  Kingdom. 

A  man  comes  to  us  with  a  report  of  having  seen  an  aer- 
onaut ascend  to  the  height  of  two  miles,  using  for  his  bal- 
loon a  soap-bubble  fifty  feet  in  diameter.  Such  a  report 
without  doubt  would  be  believed  by  many  uncultivated,  un- 
intelligent, and  unquestioning  persons,  especially  if  the  re- 
porter should  state  that  the  balloonist  had  received  divine 
assistance;  but  by  the  intelligent  it  would  be  set  down  as  a 
falsehood  or  a  joke.  No  amount  of  testimony  could  make 
the  educated  man  believe  that  a  thin  film  of  water  having: 
such  a  large  surface  exposed  to  unequal  internal  and  exter- 
nal pressures,  could  possibly  escape  collapse  under  the 
strain  necessary  to  effect  the  ascent  reported.  Neverthe- 
less, that  a  man  should  have  faith  in  such  a  report,  is  far 
more  reasonable  than  that  he  should  believe  in  the  dogma 
of  the  resurrection.  Believing  in  the  former  does  not  in- 
volve a  violation  of  the  known  laws  of  nature;  believing  in 
the  latter  does.  The  soap-bubble,  especially  if  filled  with 
hydrogen,  can  certainly  ascend  with  some  weight,  to  some 
height,  for  some  time;  for  this  has  been  over  and  over 
demonstrated.  In  the  report,  therefore,  there  would  be 
nothing  absolutely  contrary  to  established  law.-;;  although  it 
would  be  a  gross  exaggeration  of  the  force  of  a  soap-bubble. 
On  the  other  hand,  to  have  faith  in  the  dogma  of  the  res- 
urrection of  the  dead,  is  not  to  believe  in  a  mere  exaggera- 
tion,but  in  something  absolutely  at  variance  with  all  known 
universal  laws.  Man  is  a  member  of  the  animal  kingdom. 
His  generation  differs  in  no  respect  from  that  of  any  other 
animal;  and  he  is  subject  to  the  common  laws  that 
govern  all  animal  life.  There  is  not  an  atom  in  his  physi- 
cal organism  that  is  peculiar  to  him,  or  produced  in  any- 
way different  from  that  in  which  those  of  any  other  animal 


THE    RESURRECTION.  329 

are  produced.  In  birth,  in  infancy,  in  maturity,  in  decline, 
in  death,  man  only  exemplifies  animal  life  in  general.  Dur- 
ing the  period  of  gestation  he  assumes  the  forms  and  charac- 
teristics of  various  lower  animals;  and  after  birth,  though 
his  form  is  comparatively  fixed,  he  manifests  common  ani- 
mal propensities,  and  is  governed  by  common  animal 
necessities.  It  takes  man  about  twenty-five  years  to  pass 
from  the  egg  to  the  perfect  state;  while  it  takes  the  cicada 
about  seventeen  years,  and  the  bee  only  about  twenty  days. 
In  the  beginning,  indeed,  "all  animals  from  the  sponge  to 
man,  appear  essentially  alike;"  and  even  after  quite  a  lit- 
tle time  has  passed,  it  is  yet  impossible  to  determine 
whether  the  rudimentary  form  under  investigation  is  that 
of  a  frog  or  a  human  being.  '  'The  gill-arches  of  fish  origi- 
nally exist  exactly  the  same  in  man ;  and  in  the  first  months 
of  development  he  possesses  a  real  tail,"  (Haeckel),  a  rem- 
nant of  which  remains  even  in  his  perfect  state.  Indeed, 
at  the  age  of  four  weeks  the  embryos  of  man  and  dog  are 
almost  exactly  alike;  and  even  when  the  human  embryo  is 
eight  weeks  old,  it  has  a  most  striking  resemblance  to  that 
of  the  dog  at  six.  Every  atom  of  man's  frame  is  of  the 
earth,  earthy;  and  every  atom  after  death  returns  to  the 
earth  from  which  it  was  derived.  We  lay  the  forms  of  our 
dear  ones  in  their  peaceful  beds.  In  a  few  years,  perhaps, 
a  handful  of  dust  remains;  and  in  a  few  more,  even  that 
has  become  diffused,  or  incorporated  in  other  animal  and 
vegetable  life;  and  the  animals  and  vegetables  thus  pro- 
duced become  in  time  again  incorporated  in  the  living 
bodies  of  other  living  forms.  Thus  it  is  that  the  atoms 
forming  our  frames  are,  as  it  were,  but  given  us  for  present 
use,  afterwards  inevitably  to  be  handed  over  to  the  use  of 
others.  The  real  title  to  these  atoms  remains  in  the  earth 
alone.  She  grants  their  use  for  a  time  to  certain  of  her  off- 
spring, who  after  they  become  physically  unable  to  make 


330  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

a  profitable  use  of  them,  are  forced  to  yield  them  up,  and 
give  them  over  to  others  who  use  them  profitably.  Thus 
in  process  of  time  much  of  the  earth's  surface  will  have 
been  incorporated  in  living  animals;  and  after  countless 
years  shall  have  rolled  around,  even  in  human  frames. 
The  same  atom  will  thus  have  passed  from  one  human 
frame  into  another  an  indefinite  number  of  times.  Since, 
therefore,  the  self-same  atom  enters  into  the  formation  of 
an  indefinite  number  of  individuals,  the  number  of  differ- 
ent atoms  that  have  helped  to  form  all  the  human  beings 
that  have  ever  lived,  are  very  small  indeed  compared  to 
that  vast  number  which  have  hitherto  entered  into  the  for- 
mation of  all  mankind.  Now,  if  the  dead  be  raised  at  all, 
they  must  be  raised  having  the  identical  atoms  they  had 
when  living.  That  the  spirit  be  clothed  about  with  a  simi- 
lar body,  is  by  no  means  a  resurrection  of  the  body  that 
was  laid  in  the  grave.  We  affirm  again  that  if  the  identical 
atom  which  enters  into  the  body  when  living,  be  not  raised 
after  death  in  the  resurrection,  there  is  no  resurrection  of 
the  dead;  and  that  any  assertion  contrary  to  this  statement 
will,  in  due  time,  be  found  to  consist  of  empty  words. 
Now,  as  the  forms  of  energy  are  various,  while  the  total 
amount  of  energy  is  invariable,  and  since  it  is  impossible 
to  make  fifty  pounds  of  flour  out  of  one  ounce  of  wheat; 
so,  as  we  have  seen,  it  is  impossible  to  fashion  out  of  atoms 
sufficient  only  for  a  million  of  bodies,  a  number  sufficient 
for  a  million  millions.  Out  of  nothing,  nothing  comes.  If 
the  reader  should  hold  that  God  Almighty  can  create  atoms 
whenever  necessary,  we  reply  that  even  were  such  creation 
possible,  it  could  not  affect  the  impossibility  just  stated. 
Creation  does  not  partake  of  the  nature  of  resurrection. 
The  one  is  the  bringing  into  being,  out  of  nothing,  of  that 
which  has  not  been  before;  the  other  is  simply  the  bring- 
ing back  to  being  of  that  which  has  been  before.  The  res- 


THE   RESURRECTION'.  33 1 

urrection  of  the  dead  is  conditioned  on  the  bringing  back 
to  being  of  the  bodies  that  have  been ;  and  it  is  this  that  we 
find  impossible;  since  it  is  contrary  to  well-known  universal 
laws, — to  the  law  of  the  conservation  of  energy,  to  the  fun- 
damental law  of  equality,  and  to  that  of  common  sense, 
and  every-day  experience. 

Another  insurmountable  objection  to  faith  in  the  dog- 
ma of  the  resurrection,  is  found  in  the  fact  of  the  constant 
and  incessant  changes  to  which  the  body,  during  life,  is 
subject.  In  order  to  understand  the  nature  and  amount 
of  this  change,  one  must  have  some  knowledge  of  the  basic 
elements  of  living  organisms.  As  in  the  city  there  is 
nothing  foreign  to  man,  the  city  being  only  a  multiplica- 
tion of  the  individual,  so  in  the  human  framework  there  is 
nothing  foreign  to  the  individual  cells  which  compose  it; 
but  as  by  the  association  of  individual  men,  the  possibilities 
and  latent  powers  of  each  are  called  forth  and  manifested 
in  civic  government,  and  in  higher  and  more  complex 
activity,  so  do  the  human  body  and  its  government  show 
us,  in  a  higher  and  more  complex  form,  the  forces  and 
latent  powers  of  the  individual  cells  which  compose  the 
body.  In  size  the  cell  ranges  from  one  five-hundredth  to 
one  ten-thousandth  of  an  inch  in  diameter;  but  "within 
their  narrow  boundaries  are  exhibited  all  the  essential 
phenomena  of  life,  growth,  development,  and  reproduc- 
tion' '.  (Norton).  It  is  as  certain  that  every  living  organ- 
ism originates  in  a  cell,  as  that  the  house  originates  in  a 
brick  or  stone;  and  that  as  a  house  is  but  a  multiplication 
of  the  individual  brick  or  stone,  so  is  the  adult  organism 
only  an  aggregation  of  the  individual  cells.  Not  only  is 
this  true,  but  the  same  elementary  phenomena  of  life  are 
common  to  all  cells  alike,  whether  it  be  a  unicellular  or- 
ganism, a  cell  of  a  plant,  or  one  from  the  tissues  of  the 
highest  animal.      "The  minutest  cell",  says  Prof.   Max 


332  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

Verworn,  "exhibits  all  the  elementary  phenomena  of  life. 
It  breathes,  and  takes  nourishment.  It  grows,  and  prop- 
agates itself.  It  moves,  and  reacts  against  stimuli". 
Furthermore,  in  lower  animal  life  in  general  the  waste 
resulting  from  the  wear  and  tear  of  life  is  not  so  great  as 
it  is  in  the  higher  ones.  In  man  this  waste  is  very  great 
indeed;  for  in  him  "the  constituent  cells  live  very  fast, 
making  much  waste,  and  using  much  food".  (Martin). 
Some  idea  of  cell  life  may  be  had  from  the  action  of  blood 
corpuscles.  The  colorless  blood  corpuscles  act  as  if  living 
animals.  Each  of  these  consists  of  a  soft  mass  of  proto- 
plasm. They  change  their  forms  constantly  and  sponta- 
neously, thrusting  out  one  process,  and  retracting  another. 
They  are  even  seen  to  "creep  across  the  field  of  the 
microscope;  and  they  sometimes  bore  right  through  the 
capillaries,  and  creep  about  among  the  other  tissues". 
(Martin).  As  they  become  chilled,  after  having  been 
taken  from  the  body,  they  get  closer  and  closer  together, 
as  pigs  on  a  cold  day.  Thus  we  see  the  elementary  stones 
of  the  human  temple  are  constantly  crumbling  into  dust, 
and  others  take  their  places.  The  body,  therefore,  that 
we  have  at  one  moment,  is  not,  in  all  of  its  elements,  the 
body  we  have  at  the  next;  far  less  is  the  body  we  have  to- 
day the  body  we  shall  have  to-morrow.  It  is  absolutely 
certain  that  the  body  even  at  the  instant  of  the  last  breath 
of  life,  is  not  the  same,  in  all  respects,  as  that  which  is 
afterwards  laid  in  the  tomb;  for  even  after  we  cease  to 
breathe,  many  changes  take  place  before  all  the  vital  forces 
cease  to  act.  Since  in  life,  therefore,  we  have  really  very 
many  bodies,  only  one  of  which  is  dogmatically  promised 
us  in  the  resurrection,  it  follows  that  we  can  not  hope  that 
the  body  which  we  have  at  any  particular  moment  can  be 
raised  from  the  dead;  and  therefore  that  we  can  not  hope 
that  the  body  can  be  raised  at  all.   In  this  we  have  another 


THE   RESURRECTION.  333 

reason  for  not  believing  in  the  absurd  dogma  of  the  resur- 
rection of  the  dead. 

For  the  truth  of  this  dogma  we  have  no  positive  evidence 
whatever.     The  changes  which  come  over  the  larvae  of 
most  insects  in  passing  from  their  lowest  to  their  perfect 
state,  are  held  by  some  to  be  typical  of  the  resurrection; 
but   we  find   no    reason   whatever   for   such   conclusion. 
"Man",  says  Norton,  "is  developed  on  the  same  general 
principles  as  the  butterfly;  but  the  transformations  are  con- 
cealed from  view" .    The  likeness  of  man's  transformations 
to  those  of  the  butterfly,  however,  has  reference  exclusive- 
ly to  those  transformations  which  occur  on  this  side  of  the 
tomb.     The  organs  of  the  larva  do  not  change  directly 
into  those  of  the  perfect  insect,  but  develop  gradually  out 
of,  as  it  were,  formless  matter;  but  the  animal  while  in  this 
intermediate  state,  is  not  dead.     Shut  up  in  silence,  its 
living  forces  manifest  the  most  wonderful  activity,  a"nd 
cease  not  until  the  perfect  insect  is  produced.     In  such 
transformations  we  find  nothing  like  that  from  life  to  death. 
Indeed,  in  such  we  find  no  more  appearance  of  death  than 
in  the  case  of  a  master-builder  who,  having  determined  to 
change  the  plans  of  his  building,  ceases  not  his  labors,  but 
sets  more  men  than  ever  to  work,  to   finish  the  structure 
according  to  the  new  design.     All  animal  transformations  ■ 
are  constructive;  death  is  destructive.     The  one  builds  up; 
the  other  tears  down.     The  one  is  conservation;  the  other 
is  dissipation.     The  one  is  victor;  the  other  is  captive. 
The  one  is  form;  the  other  is  chaos.     The  one  is  light;  the 
other  is  darkness.     In  brief :   the  one  is  life;  the  other  is 
death.   We  insist  that  the  reasonable  man  can  find  nothing 
in  animal  transformations  to  strengthen  his  belief  in  the 
dogma  of  the  resurrection.     From  such  considerations  as 
these,  we  are  forced  to  conclude  that  nothing  other  than 
the  common  fate  of  animal  organisms  can  await  the  human 


334  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

frame. 

Concerning  the  character  of  the  proof  which  we  find  in 
the  New  Testament  for  the  truth  of  this  dogma,  we  think 
suincient  has  been  said  in  "God  and  Man,"  and  elsewhere 
in  this  volume.  Mr.  Fisher,  writing  in  support  of  the 
New  Testament  miracles,  but  speaking  of  those  which  are 
said  to  have  been  wrought  more  especially  by  the  medieval 
saints,  says:  "It  can  not  be  denied  that  pious  fraud  played 
a  prominent  part  in  the  biographies  of  the  saints.  When 
positive  trickery  has  not  been  practiced,  circumstances  have 
been  concealed  which,  if  known,  would  have  stripped 
many  a  transaction  of  the  miraculous  aspect  which  it  wore 
in  the  eyes  of  the  ignorant.  In  order  than  an  individual 
may  be  enrolled  as  a  saint,  and  invoked  in  this  character, 
it  has  been  held  to  be  indispensable  that  he  should  have 
wrought  miracles.  It  is  easy  to  conceive  not  only  what  a 
stimulus  this  theory  must  have  afforded  to  the  devout 
imagination,  but  also  what  conscious  exaggeration  and 
wilful  invention  must  have  sprung  out  of  such  a  creed.  A 
great  number  of  ecclesiastical  miracles  can  be  explained  by 
natural  causes.  Frequently  natural  events  of  no  uncom- 
mon occurance  are  viewed  as  supernatural.  The  physical 
effects  of  vigils  and  fastings,  were  no  doubt  in  many  cases 
salutary.  Heated  imagination,  ardent  faith,  confident 
hope,  may  produce  extraordinary  effects.  A  variety  of 
nervous  disorders  are  cured  by  sudden  shocks."  Mr. 
Fisher  then  admits  that  if  the  Gospel  miracles  were  of  the 
character  of  the  ecclesiastical,  "there  might  be  no  occasion 
for  referring  them  to  supernatural  agency;"  but  he,  of 
course,  denies  their  similarity. 

In  reply  we  would  say  that  in  most  ancient  times,  no 
less  than  in  apostolic,  men  were  predisposed  to  belief  in 
the  miraculous.  Dreams  were  supernatural;  comets  were 
prophetic   of  dire    calamity;    prodigies  announced  every 


THE    RESURRECTION.  335 

memorable  event;  sacrifices  prevented  divine  wrath.  Even 
Cicero  assures  us  that  no  one  ever  heard  of  a  nation  that 
did  not  believe  in  divination,  as  was  proved  by  the  exist- 
ence for  so  many  ages  of  the  temples  and  the  oracles. 
This  universal  predisposition  to  faith  in  miracles,  would 
naturally  incline  men  to  accept  as  true  any  reported  won- 
der, and  to  unfit  them  for  all  critical  investigation  of  the 
nature  required.  Belief  in  the  marvelous  has  been  in  all 
ages  the  one  string  in  the  human  instrument,  on  which 
priests  and  bishops  have  delighted  most  to  play.  "Their 
power  has  always  grown,  with  the  extinction  of  civil  gov- 
ernment, and  the  spread  of  superstition."  (Bryce.)  Apol- 
lonius  of  Tyana,  whom  the  pagans  declared  superior  to 
Christ,  was  said  to  have  raised  the  dead,  cast  out  devils, 
healed  the  sick,  and  to  have  performed  countless  other 
miracles  equally  wonderful.  In  like  manner  Porphyry 
was  held  to  have  exorcised  evil  spirits,  and  Iamblicus  to 
have  made  himself  appear,  by  praying,  ten  cubits  tall, and 
to  have  drawn  out  of  the  waters  the  goddesses  of  rivers, 
and  to  have  exhibited  them  in  bodily  form.  Eleazer,  a  Jew, 
drew  a  devil  through  the  nostrils  of  an  afflicted  person. 
That  the  followers  of  Christ  should  have  believed  that  he 
possessed  miraculous  power,  is  only  what  might  be  ex- 
pected; nor  is  it  any  more  strange  that  the  medieval  saints 
should  have  professed  to  do  what  they  believed  their  mas- 
ter did.  According  to  Irenaeus  all  Christians  had  the 
power  to  work  miracles.  He  tells  us  that  they  prophesied, 
cast  out  devils,  raised  the  dead,  and  healed  the  sick.  Au- 
gustine assures  us  that  many  miracles  were  performed, 
some  of  which  he  had  himself  witnessed.  The  relics  of 
saints  gave  sight  to  the  blind,  and  expelled  wicked  spirits. 
In  the  sixth  century  the  blood  of  St.  Stephen  is  said  to 
have  been  found  upon  the  altar  in  Bordeau.  In  the  dio- 
cese of  Tours  an  altar  had  been  raised  near  the  grave  of  a 


336  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

supposed  saint.  To  make  himself  sure  of  the  character  of 
the  person  who  had  been  interred  there,  St.  Martin  stood 
upon  the  grave,  and  prayed  that  God  would  remove  all 
doubt  from  his  mind.  Instantly  a  frightful-looking  ghost 
is  said  to  have  appeared,  saying,  "I  was  a  robber,  and 
these  are  my  bones. "  A  finger  of  St.  Celsus  is  reported 
not  to  have  been  in  the  least  affected  by  the  fiercest  flames, 
even  after  long  exposure;  and  a  piece  of  linen  with  which 
Christ  is  said  to  have  wiped  the  apostles'  feet,  could  not, 
it  is  reported, be  consumed  by  the  fire.  When  Clovis  sought 
to  carry  away  a  bone  from  the  body  of  St.  Dennis,  the  ec- 
clesiastics tell  us  he  was  immediately  struck  with  blindness. 
They  also  affirm  that  the  relics  of  Saints  Peter  and  Paul 
wrought  most  wonderful  miracles,  similar  in  character  to 
those  we  have  mentioned.  Gregory  the  Great  assures  us 
that  the  bishop  of  Placentia  wrote  a  letter  to  the  river  Po, 
when  it  had  overflowed  some  church  lands;  and  that  when 
the  letter  was  thrown  into  the  waters,  the  river  immediate- 
ly fell  back  into  its  customary  bed.  The  fame  of  Gregory 
Thaumaturgus  as  a  wonder-worker  was  too  world-wide  to 
need  mention.  We  have  need  only  to  say  that  for  the 
genuineness  of  his  miracles  the  ecclesiastics  have  produced 
a  host  of  witnesses. 

It  is  useless  to  reason  with  any  man  who  holds  that 
such  miracles  are,  in  their  character,  different  from  those 
reported  in  the  New  Testament.  For  our  own  part  we  can 
explain  Mr.  Fisher's  position  only  on  the  grounds 
of  the  charge  which  he  himself  brings  against  the 
ecclesiastical  miracles:  his  apology  for  the  New  Testament 
miracles  should  be  regarded  as  made  "in  coincidence  with 
a  prevailing  system,  and  for  the  furtherance  of  it."  Not 
only  are  there  a  vast  number  of  reported  ecclesiastical 
miracles  whose  wonderful  character  is  fully  equal  to  that 
of  any  of  those  in  the  New  Testament,  but  many  of  them 


THE    RESURRECTION.  337 

are  far  better  substantiated.  The  charge,  however,  which 
Mr.  Fisher  brings  against  the  ecclesiastical  miracles,  is 
true;  but  the  apology  he  makes  for  those  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament, is  utterly  groundless.  No  reasonable  man  can 
found  his  faith  or  hope  on  miracles;  for  they  can  not  be 
substantiated.  It  is  impossible  to  remove  the  feeling  that 
they  may  have  originated  in  some  way  or  other  as  Mr. 
Fisher  and  thousands  of  other  able  writers  before  him,  have 
described.  We  can  not,  therefore,  appeal  to  miracles  in 
proof  of  the  dogma  of  the  resurrection. 

So  convinced  was  Merton  of  the  absurdity  of  the  dogma 
of  the  resurrection,  that  at  the  last  Easter  services  he  held 
in  the  Episcopal  church,  while  declaring  the  power  of  Jesus 
to  raise  his  followers  out  of  a  life  of  sinful  indifference  to  a 
life  of  holy  activity,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  state  to  his  peo- 
ple that  he  did  not  believe  the  bodily  resurrection  of  Jesus 
Christ  had  been  sufficiently  substantiated  to  remove  honest 
doubt  from  the  thoughtful  and  scholarly  mind. 

In  conclusion,  we  can  not  too  forcibly  remind  the  reader 
that  this  chapter  has  not  been  written  with  the  view  of 
weakening  his  religious  inclinations,  but  rather  of  strength- 
ening them.  We  fully  believe  that  God  is  no  respecter  of 
persons;  that  He  has  no  favorites,  no  elect,  no  chosen  peo- 
ple; that  what  He  has  done  for  any,  He  has  done  for  all; 
and  that  what  He  has  not  done  for  all,  He  has  not  done  for 
any.  His  laws  are  for  all.  His  spirit  is  in  and  over  all, 
transforming,  purifying,  sanctifying,  and  encouraging;  and 
it  is  led  by  this  spirit  that  humanity  worships,  adores,  and 
glorifies  the  ever-living  and  only  God  and  Father  of  all. 
There  could  be  no  greater  miracle  than  that  man  who  needs 
a  miracle  to  convince  him  of  his  duty  and  privilege  to 
adore  his  Creator,  and  chant  the  universal  hymn  of  praise 
to  God. 


ti 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

THE    HEAVENLY   ADVERSARY. 

{Numbers  xxii.  22.) 
{A  Sermon  by  Henry  Merton.) 

i  ^'TpHERE  is  no  subject  which  brings  religion  into  such 
antagonism  with  science,  as  that  of  prayer.  There 
are  many  ignorant,  earnest  Christians  who  fully  believe  in 
the  power  of  prayer  to  move  the  Deity  to  act  in  their  be- 
half. On  the  other  hand,  most  scientists  affirm  that  prayer 
is  not  only  irrational,  but  that  it  partakes  of  the  nature  of 
irreverence,  if  not  of  blasphemy.  Such  men  may  find  some 
reasonable  hope  of  immortality;  but  they  find  no  grounds 
whatever  of  hoping  for  an  answer  to  prayer.  Nor  must  it 
be  supposed  that  only  irreligious  scientists  and  infidels  thus 
deny  the  efficacy  of  prayer;  for  even  some  who  are  among 
the  most  religious  take  the  same  position.  Says  Eckhart: 
'Thou  needst  not  tell  God  what  thou  hast  need  of;  he  knows 
it  all  beforehand.  If  I  pray  for  anything,  I  pray  for  that 
which  is  nothing.  He  who  prays  for  anything  besides  God, 
prays  for  that  which  is  an  idol.  The  pure  man  does  not 
pray;  for  every  prayer  is  for  some  definite  object,  but  the 
heart  of  the  pure  craves  for  nothing.  God  is  not  moved 
by  our  prayers.  He  has  foreseen  all  things  from  eternity, 
including,  therefore,  our  prayers;  and  he  has  from  all  eter- 
nity granted  or  refused  them'. 

"But  if  prayer  has  no  other  value,  it  is  certainly  of  in- 
finite value  in  its  subjective  influence.  We  should  pray 
rather  that  God's  will  be  done  in  us,  than  for  any  special 
object  or  favor. 

"Near  the  close  of  Israel's  wanderings,  and  on  the  east- 
ern side  of  the  Jordan ,  opposite  J  ericho ,  might  have  been  seen 

two  men,Balak  and  Balaam,  the  former  being  the  king  of 

338 


THE     HEAVENLY    ADVERSARY.  339 

Moab,  the  latter  his  heathen  priest.  Balak  saw  what  the  chosen 
people  had  lately  done  to  the  Amorites,  and  fearful  that  his 
own  subjects  might  be  dispossessed  of  their  country  by  these 
strange  Israelites,  who,  he  says,  were  sufficiently  numerous 
to  '  lick  up  all  around  about  them  as  the  ox  licketh  up  the 
grass  of  the  field,'  besought  Balaam  to  importune  with  God 
to  rid  him  of  the  Israelitish  immigrators. 

"  Whoever  Balaam  was,  as  a  priest  he  stood  high  in  the 
hearts  of  the  people,  and,  without  reasonable  doubt,  was  in 
favor  with  God  ;  for  the  king  says  :  I  know  whom  thou 
blessest,  is  blest  ;  and  whom  thou  cursest,  is  cursed.  He 
therefore  sent  the  elders  of  his  people  with  gitts  to  his  priest 
that  he  might  intercede  in  his  behalf,  and  turn  Jehovah 
against  the  chosen  race.  As  asked,  Balaam  prays,  but  is 
commanded  not  to  curse  whom  the  Lord  hath  blessed.  Ba- 
lak does  not  yet  despair  He  appeals  to  the  pride  of  the 
priest  by  sending  him  princes  as  messengers  bearing  the 
promise  of  great  promotion,  and  even  of  royal  obedience,  if 
only  the  priest  come,  and  pray  against  the  Israelites  ;  but 
Balaam  nobly  says:  If  Balak  would  give  me  his  house  full 
of  silver  and  gold,  I  can  not  go  beyond  the  word  of  the  Lord 
my  God  to  do  less  or  more.  Again  the  word  of  the  Lord  is 
unfavorable  to  the  king  who  once  more  importunes  his  priest 
to  plead  with  God  against  the  Israelites.  Five  times  does 
this  priest,  by  request  of  the  king,  seek  to  know  if  God  will 
oppose  the  progress  of  the  Israelites.  After  his  second  in- 
tercession with  God,  and  on  going  to  have  a  personal  inter- 
view with  the  king,  he  is  met  on  hTs  way  by  the  Angel  of 
Jehovah  who  opposes  his  progress  with  drawn  sword.  The 
priest  forthwith  confesses  his  sins,  but  pleads  his  ignorance 
of  having  God  for  an  adversary.  On  the  whole  the  charac- 
ter of  this  heathen  priest  compares  very  favorably  with  that 
of  the  Christian  priests  of  to-day  ;    for  the  word  that  God 


,34o  Footprints  of  a  soul. 

put  into  his  mouth,  that  would  he  speak,  and  none  other, 
though  his  house  were  filled  with  silver  and  gold. 

"  In  considering  our  very  important  subject,  we  shall 
seek  to  throw  light  upon  the  question,  when  may  we  expect 
to  be  opposed  by  the  heavenly  adversary. 

"  (I)  :  Rome  is  coming  into  prominence.  The  descend- 
ants of  Romulus  and  Remus,  though  at  first  despised  by  the 
Carthaginians,  are  now  getting  to  be  treated  with  deference. 
Their  merchant-ships  frequent  ports  hitherto  visited  by  the 
Carthaginians  only.  The  city  upon  seven  hills  must  be 
plowed  up,  if  Carthage  holds  her  sway.  One  of  the  bravest 
and  most  skilful  generals  that  ever  led  armies  to  battle,  is 
sworn  by  deadly  oath  never  to  sheathe  his  sword,  till  hated 
Rome  be  humbled.  The  foes  have  their  priests  who  day  by 
day  plead  with  God  for  victory  ;  the  generals  and  the  sol- 
diers gaze  into  the  face  of  God  for  a  sign.  Heaven  and 
earth  are  invoked  by  the  hostile  armies  ;  thousands  upon 
thousands  lie  weltering  in  their  blood ;  the  eternal  city  is 
threatened,  but  the  tide  turns.  Rome  sails  out  to  sea  a 
stately  ship,  and  mistress  of  the  world  ;  Carthage  is  thrown 
on  shore  a  pitiable  hulk,  and  left  to  be  buried  by  the  drift- 
ing sands  of  time.  These  countries  were  not  Christian  ;  but 
who  dares  to  say  that  no  praying  hearts  were  found  among 
these  people  ?  Could  a  man  be  the  author  of  Cato  Major, 
and  never  pray  to  God  ?  Could  the  heathen  priests  and 
temples  receive  from  the  people  such  lavish  offerings,  unless 
the  people  had  faith  in  their  worship  ?  We  have  every  reas- 
on to  believe  that  such  people,  without  the  knowledge  of 
Christ,  had  a  knowledge  of  the  one  God  and  Savior  of  all. 
They  having  not  the  law,  were  a  law  unto  themselves,  their 
consciences  bearing  witness  unto  the  truth.  Where  there  is 
a  heart  to  pray  according  to  the  light  given,  there  is  there  a 
God  to  bless.  Rome  grew,  spreading  her  branches  into 
every  land  ;    scattering  literature,  arts  and  science   into  the 


THE    HEAVENLY   ADVERSARY.  34 1 

darkness  of  heathendom  ;  opening  the  channels  of  commu- 
nication by  inculcating  an  harmonious  and  universal  lang- 
uage ;  and  crowning  all  with  a  jurisprudence  the  growth 
of  centuries,  and  the  wonder  of  the  then  known  world.  Her 
noble  minds  are  to  be  the  vehicles  of  higher  truths;  her 
philosophy  is  to  be  given  to  the  nations  as  the  outward  garb 
of  righteousness, — even  to  distant  Britain  which,  in  the  ages 
to  come,  was  to  develope  a  nobler  freedom,  and  an  intenser 
light  for  those  sitting  in  darkness,  and  in  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death.  Carthage,  with  all  her  prayers  and  sacri- 
fices, was  to  cease  to  be  remembered  :  her  cruel  laws,  her 
heartless  oligarchy,  her  inhuman  butchery,  her  stunted  lit- 
erature, her  lack  of  an  appreciative  moral-sense,  were  all  to 
pass  away. 

"  France  impelled  forward  by  monk  and  friar,  is  not  to 
rule  the  western  world,  but  England  is  to  enter  in,  and  take 
possession.  Her  strong  sense  of  justice,  her  love  of  princi- 
ple, her  sense  of  duty,  her  spirit  of  freedom,  are  marked 
qualities  of  the  nation  that  God  destined  to  be  the  educator 
of  the  world.  The  world  writhes  under  the  heels  of  Bona- 
parte, and  liberty's  blood  sends  up  its  cry  from  the  ground 
of  oppression.  God  hears  the  cry  ;  and  Waterloo  rescues 
humanity  from  the  spirit  of  tyranny.  Thousands  of  faithful 
prayers  from  cottage  and  temple  had  ascended  for  the  suc- 
cess of  the  great  general  ;  but  God  winked  at  them  :  free- 
dom must  extend  her  sway,  and  the  truth  must  be  preached, 
and  the  chariot  of  the  true  Christ  move  triumphantly  on. 
France,  powerful  as  she  is,  and  pray  as  she  does,  in  1815,  is 
not  permitted  to  sway  the  nations. 

"  Mary  is  very  ardent,  zealous  and  prayerful  for  the 
Roman  cause  ;  and  bishops  and  priests,  then  as  now,  invoke 
the  blessing  of  the  Almighty  upon  her  endeavor  to  extirpate 
the  great  schism  and  heresy.  The  machinery  of  the  church — 
the  sword,  the  pike  and  the  faggot,  are  on  hand  in  abund- 


342  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

ance,  to  add  force  to  the  prayers  of  the  priests ;  but  the 
blood  of  Latimer  and  Ridley  is  stronger  than  the  papacy, 
and  cries  to  God  for  vengeance  from  the  Smithfield  fires. 
This  small  but  worthy  sacrifice  for  truth  and  freedom  was 
accepted  ;  and  Latimer  and  Ridley  lit  a  candle  in  England 
that  never  can  be  put  out.  The  blood  of  martyrs  is  the  seed 
of  truth.  That  seed  has  taken  deep  root  with  us.  The  pray, 
ers  of  the  Bloody  Queen,  though  fervent  and  faithful, 
availed,  not.  She  died,  and  the  power  of  Romanism,  in 
England,  died  with  her. 

"(II):  A  faithful  mother  bends  over  the  fever-lit  eyes  of 
her  dying  son.  It  is  her  only  boy,  and  her  heart  yearns 
over  him.  Already  over  the  grave  of  her  husband,  whom 
she  loved  so  dearly,  is  the  grass  growing  green.  How  can 
this  widowed  heart  give  up  her  only  support  ?  Must  the 
angel  of  death  reap  on  such  a  blighted  ground  ?  Must  the 
heart  lose  its  last  object  of  love,  the  eye  its  lustre,  and  the 
breast  its  hope  ?  '  Take  this  bitter  cup  from  me,  O  my 
Father,'  she  cries  ;  'oh,  spare  my  boy,  my  only  boy,  that 
the  springs  of  my  life  may  not  be  altogether  dried  up  !  ' 
Few  prayers  so  fervent  as  this  of  the  lonely  and  broken- 
hearted mother ;  but,  alas  !  it  availeth  not.  Her  boy  was 
laid  in  the  cold,  cold  grave,  by  the  side  of  her  husband  ;  and 
she  is  alone  in  the  world,  a  miserable  object  of  charity. 
Perhaps  the  son  was  taken  from  the  evil  to  come.  The  tree 
had  borne  but  little  fruit ;  but  had  it  been  left  in  the  garden, 
it  might  have  become  worm-eaten,  and,  thus  cumbering  the 
ground,  been  cut  down,  and  cast  into  the  fire. 

"In  a  paternal  mansion  a  happy  gathering  is  seen.  Faces 
are  flushed  with  pride,  spirits  jubilant  with  joy  ;  for  another 
unit  is  to  be  added  to  the  nation,  a  new  family  circle  formed, 
a  new  centre  of  pleasure  created.  No  heart-thrust  can  be 
received  from  the  world,  that  may  not  now  be  healed  by 
loving  hands  at  home  ;  for  the  twain  shall  be  no  longer  two 


THE  HEAVENLY  ADVERSARY.  343 

but  one.  No  tears  can  flow,  which  may  not  now  be  wiped 
away  ;  no  woe  endured,  which  is  not  gladly  shared.  Even 
here,  into  this  union  of  hearts,  does  death  make  an  entrance, 
and  rive  the  bonds  asunder.  Without  apparent  aggravation 
or  cause,  the  chariot  and  horsemen  have  taken  the  spirit  of 
the  fair  one  to  the  skies,  leaving  the  bereaved  to  wither  and 
<lie.  What  grief  such  soul  endures  !  What  woe  now  fills 
his  breast !  Can  it  be  a  pleasure  to  God,  thus  to  afflict  his 
children  ?  It  can  not  be.  Our  sky  may  never  again  be 
clear,  the  heart  no  more  may  feel  its  bliss  ;  but  with  arid 
sands  beneath,  and  a  brazen  sky  above,  we  may  be  sure  He 
doeth  all  things  well.  Our  life,  if  lonely,  is  short;  if  the 
burden  be  heavy,  we  may  lay  it  down  to-morrow.  Besides 
our  loss  is  our  friend's  infinite  gain  :  the  fever  no  more  shall 
parch  the  lips,  nor  dethrone  the  mind  ;  harrowing  pain  no 
more  shall  rack  the  body,  nor  disturb  the  soul's  tranquility  ; 
no  more  temptation,  nor  bitter  tears  of  repentance;  the  con- 
flict with  death  is  over,  the  eternal  shore  is  gained. 

"  The  apostles  prayed,  and  their  brethren  through  all 
ages  have  followed  their  example  ;  yet  thousands  of  those 
prayers  have  never  been  answered.  The  wise  father  on  earth 
will  refuse  the  petition  of  his  child,  if  detrimental  to  the 
family's  interests;  so  will  our  heavenly  Father  refuse  to  hear 
our  prayers,  if  they  be  opposed  to  the  well-being  of  his  other 
children. 

"(Ill):  The  great  apostle  of  the  Gentiles  prayed  three 
times  that  the  thorn  in  his  flesh  might  be  removed  ;  but 
God's  ears  were  deaf  to  his  cries.  That  his  prayers  should 
be  granted,  was  very  desirable  to  Paul  ;  for  whatever  the 
thorn  in  his  flesh  may  have  been,  it  seemed  a  great  impedi- 
ment to  his  popularity  as  a  preacher,  and  to  his  success  as  a 
master-builder  in  the  great  temple  of  God.  But,  in  after 
years,  Paul  confessed  it  was  good  for  him  that  God  had 
been  averse  to   his   prayers.     How  many  of  us  plead  with 


344  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

God  for  things  which  unmask  our  selfishness  !  How  few 
resign  self  into  the  hands  of  our  heavenly  Father  !  He  puts 
us  into  the  furnace  to  burn  away  the  dross,  and  we  endeavor 
to  resist  ;  the  adversary  meets  us  on  our  way  in  our  un- 
righteous ambition,  and  after  a  contest  generally  succeeds  in 
driving  us  back  into  the  valley  of  humility  ;  but  sometimes 
we  parry  so  long  with  the  sword  of  Jehovah  that  He  sheathes 
it,  allowing  us  to  pass  madly  on  in  the  road  of  pleasure,  un- 
til we  fall  headlong  into  the  gulf  of  ruin.  Better  for  such 
had  he  died  in  his  infancv,  before  the  '  silver  cord  was 
loosed,  or  the  pitcher  broken  at  the  fountain,  or  the  wheel 
broken  at  the  cistern,  or  the  grasshopper  became  a  burden, 
or  his  desire  failed.' 

"  Job  prays  that  God  may  forget  the  day  of  his  birth,  and 
that  the  people  curse  the  night  wherein  he  was  born.  He 
prayed  for  death  as  for  hidden  treasure,  yet  it  came  not. 
Day  and  night  he  complains  of  the  heavy  hand  of  God  ; 
still  the  Lord  continues  to  visit  him  with  affliction,  until  Job 
saw  it  was  in  love  that  God  had  smitten  him.  Few  pray  as  this 
man  prayed,  yet  the  Lord  refused  to  grant  his  wish. 

"  Far  off  in  eastern  lands,  where  every  stream  and 
river  is  a  memorial  of  past  greatness,  where  every  zephyr 
falls  on  our  ear  as  a  requiem  for  the  dead,  I  see  an  aged  man 
toiling  up  a  mountain  side.  For  six-s.core  years  he  has 
braved  the  sea  of  life,  which  has  brought  him  every  phase 
of  human  activity.  The  royal  palace  and  the  hovel  have  alike 
been  his  home  ;  the  court  and  the  desert  are  alike  familiar 
to  him  ;  he  has  been  the  greatest  of  legislators  as  well  as 
the  humblest  of  shepherds.  But  now,  full  of  days,  weary, 
wounded  and  worn,  with  his  white  locks  falling  upon  his 
shoulders,  leaning  on  his  staff,  he  gazes  into  the  distance,  and 
beholds  the  object  of  his  yearning  spread  out  before  his 
longing  eyes, — the  Promised  Land,  where  his  heart  longs  to 
beat,  and  his  head  to  rest ;  but  God  will  not  listen  to  his 


THE     HEAVENLY   ADVERSARY.  345 

cry.  Here  on  lonely  Nebo,  without  a  friend  to  wipe  the 
death-sweat  from  his  brow,  or  pillow  his  fainting  head  ; 
here  on  the  threshold  of  his  home  must  he  fall  down,  and 
give  up  the  ghost.  Ah!  it  was  a  thorn  in  the  flesh  of  Moses 
to  be  left  for  the  birds  of  prey.  I  can  see  his  face,  in  a  halo 
of  glory,  turned  pitifully  to  God  ,  but  Jehovah  says:  '  Thou 
shalt  not  go  over  thither.'  He  is  dead  ;  but  did  the  birds  of 
the  air  feed  on  his  flesh  ?  Oh  !  what  a  burial !  what  a  se- 
pulchre !  what  a  funeral  service !  God  was  his  priest,  and 
cherubim  and  seraphim  took  care  of  the  dead. 

"Away  yonder  in  lonely  Gethsemene  a  sorrowful  man 
is  seen  crushed  with  care  and  anxiety.  He  hath  not  where 
to  lay  his  head;  he  is  despised  and  rejected  of  men.  He 
foresees  the  pricks  of  the  spear,  the  wagging  heads,  the 
mocking  multitude;  he  feels  already  the  burning  thirst,  and 
the  pains  of  death.  With  such  a  bitter  cup  to  his  lips,  he 
cries:  'Father,  if  it  be  possible  let  this  cup  pass  from  me; 
nevertheless,  not  what  I  will,  but  what  thou  wilt.'  .The 
desire  of  his  great  human  heart  is  not  granted;  the  Father's 
will  is  done;  the  cup  is  quaffed,  and  Christ  the  Savior  dies; 
but  though  he  died,  he  lives,  and  lives  forevermore,  our 
exemplar,  our  master,  and  our  guide. 

"  We  have  seen  that  prayers,  however  fervent,  are  fre- 
quently never  answered;  we,  too,  must  therefore  expect  such 
disappointment.  But  to  have  the  will  of  the  Father  done  in 
us,  is  to  have  the  best  done  for  us.  '  Not  what  I  will,  but 
what  thou  wilt,'  was  the  submissive  cry  of  Christ,  and  should 
be  that  of  us. 

"  Whatever  ye  ask  in  prayer,  it  shall  be  given  you,  pro- 
vided it  be  agreeable  to  God's  will.  Pray,  and  pray  with 
your  might;  but  do  not  seek  to  turn  the  heavenly  adversary 
aside  from  guarding  your  way.  Whether  your  prayer  be 
answered  or  not,  never  cease  to  believe  that  God  doeth  all 
things  well." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

HAPPINESS   AND    VIRTUE. 

Tivo  Sermons  by  Henry  Merton. 

{(TNa  world  so  full  of  toil,  anxiety,  uncertainty,  sickness, 
and  death,  a  discourse  on  happiness  would  seem  but 
idle  talk,  and  waste  of  time.  But  we  have  all  been  happy 
in  our  dreams,  and  even  in  moments  of  semi-consciousness, 
imagining  ourselves  again  at  the  hearthstone  of  our  par- 
ents. Such  moments  are  as  showers  in  times  of  dearth — 
they  leave  a  blessing  behind  them. 

' '  It  can  not  be  disputed  that  men  have  lived  in  all  ages, 
under  all  civilizations,  who  have  appeared  at  ease,  while 
their  neighbors  have  been  restless;  contented  while  their 
neighbors  have  been  consumed  with  desire;  discharging 
willingly  their  duties  however  lowly,  while  others  have 
been  subjects  of  grumbling  and  despair.  As  the  bee  makes 
honey  out  of  the  juices  of  insignificant  plants,  so  some  men 
appear  to  have  the  wisdom  of  extracting  a  blessing  out  of 
almost  a  curse.  They  seem  to  have  a  higher  faculty  of  dis- 
crimination than  their  fellows.  Should  we,  however,  more 
critically  examine  the  matter,  we  should  probably  find  that 
their  superior  attainments  were  but  the  result  of  the  use  of 
those  powers  common  to  us  all,  but  which  in  the  case  of 
some,  are  allowed  to  remain  dormant. 

"When  Pericles  was  dying,  and  his  friends  stood 
around  his  bed  lauding  his  great  deeds,  the  dying  man 
said,  'What  I  chiefly  prize  myself,  you  have  not  noticed: 
No  Athenian  ever  wore  mourning  through  me. '  Pericles' 
estimation  of  what  was  good,  differed  from  that  of  his 
friends. 

"In  discussing  the  subject  of  happiness  we  may  say  that 

the   days  when   purity   of  heart   and  sadness   of  coun- 

346 


HAPPINESS    AND    VIRTUE.  347 

tenance  were  thought  inseparable,  are  no  doubt  gone,  and 
properly  enough.  Utilitarianism  though  perhaps  to  some 
extent  an  exaggeration,  is  yet  more  in  conformity  with 
human  nature,  than  any  system  of  ethics  which  teaches 
that  pleasure  is  a  barrier  to  the  attainment  of  the  highest 
manhood. 

"  In  seeking  a  true  polity  for  a  people,  we  should  first 
ask  ourselves,  what  form  of  government  will  be  the  most 
agreeable,  suitable,  and  enduring,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
give  them  the  highest  benefits  of  social  life.  So  in  morals 
and  religion,  we  must  not,  as  many  have  done,  make  man  to 
suit  a  preconstructed  system,  but  the  system  to  suit  man  as 
we  find  him, — the  man  of  to-day  as  distinguished  from  the 
man  of  other  ages,  the  being  that  inhabits  this  world  of  ours 
as  distinguished  from  those  who  possibly  dwell  in  more  per- 
fect worlds.  We  must  seek  what  will  perfect,  develop,  edu- 
cate, all  the  powers  of  his  varied  nature.  So  far  as  any  sys- 
tem fails  in  accomplishing  this,  so  far  is  it  a  departure  from 
the  true  method. 

"  As  man  is  but  a  small  part  of  the  great  whole,  so  is  his 
nature  a  veritable  copy  of  it.  Nature  does  nothing  in  vain, 
and  she  is  beautiful  and  happy.  Incessant  change  charac- 
terizes her:  frost  and  snow,  sunshine  and  shade,  cold  and 
heat,  summer  and  winter,  storm  and  calm,  abundance  and 
want.  So  with  man  :  his  life  is  but  a  cycle  of  changes, — 
sorrow  and  gladness,  pleasure  and  pain,  the  warmth  of  man- 
hood's mid-day  splendor,  and  the  chilly  air  of  life's  setting 
sun.  Yet  throughout  all  these  varied  scenes  he  continually 
strives  for  happiness.  This  is  but  natural,  and  nature  is  but 
the  garment  in  which  God  wraps  himself,  and  all  her  ways 
are  but  manifestations  of  the  operating  Deity.  To  conform 
to  nature,  is  therefore  to  conform  to  God's  law;  and  to  con- 
form to  this  law,  is  to  be  godlike  ;  and  to  be  godlike,  is  to 
be  continually   striving   for   the   perfection    of  our  nature. 


348  FOOTPRINTS    OF    A   SOUl.. 

However  varied  his  life,  man  is  only  consistent  with  nature, 
therefore  with  himself  as  a  part  of  nature,  when  he  makes 
happiness  his  end. 

"  We  can  lay  down  therefore  as  our  first  proposition,  that 
happiness  is  the  end  of  life.  This  I  am  not  only  willing  to 
admit,  but  all  teaching  which  denies  it,  I  regard  as  illogical, 
or  founded  on  imaginary  premises.  You  and  I  are  each 
seeking  pleasure,  enjoyment.  Our  working-days,  our  sleep- 
less nights,  our  beating  hearts,  our  aching  heads,  our  days 
of  suffering,  our  deeds  of  kindness,  our  deeds  of  hatred,  are 
all  the  product  of  the  one  desire — the  desire  for  happiness. 
That  this  is  the  end  of  all  effort  is  evident;  but  why  in  seek- 
ing it,  different  men  frequently  pursue  contradictory 
methods,  is  not  so  evident.  We  may  say,  however,  that  as 
nature  in  general  is  varied,  so  is  human  nature,  and  that  this 
variety  makes  men  pursue  different  courses  in  the  pursuit  of 
the  one  universal  object  —  happiness.  Moreover,  when  the 
nature  is  debased,  it  may  make  man  pursue  a  course  de- 
structive of  what  he  aims  at.  Those  who  fail  to  attain  hap- 
piness, may  frequently  be  said  to  labor  under  a  false 
impression,  or  false  apprehension,  either  through  a  per- 
verted nature,  or  a  lack  of  education,  or  both.  There  are 
those,  for  instance,  who  seeing  the  power  of  money,  give 
themselves  wholly  to  its  acquisition.  They  are  willing  to 
shut  up  every  avenue  to  their  soul,  except  that  of  avarice; 
and  to  prevent  the  egress  of  any  thought,  except  that  which 
meditates  on  gold.  The  possession  of  money,  the  power  of 
wealth,  the  flattery  of  parasites  — these  things  appear  to 
them  radiant  with  beauty;  and  casting  aside  all  scruples, 
disregarding  all  other  claims  and  duties,  they  reach  forward 
to  the  acquisition  of  worldly  possessions,  believing  that 
or.ce  obtained,  they  will  be  to  them  a  fountain  of  pleasure. 
I  remember  well  in  my  boyhood  four  brothers,  of  whom 
one  by  report  had  said,  '  I  will  make  a  fortune  for  my  chil- 


HAPPINESS    AND    VIRTUE.  34.-/ 

dren,  if  I  go  to  hell  for  it.'  He  had  succeeded  in  acquiring 
about  ten  millions  of  dollars,  when  he  received  a  visit  from 
Death,  and  was  informed  that  the  time  was  at  hand  for  giv- 
ing an  account  of  his  stewardship.  He  piteously  begged 
his  visitor  to  depart,  and  offered  his  attendant  physicians 
thousands  of  pounds,  if  they  could  force  him  from  his  pres- 
ence. But  notwithstanding  the  power  of  gold,  they  were 
compelled  to  leave  him  to  his  fate;  for  they  knew  they  had 
no  power  with  death.  It  is  evident  that  something  was 
wrong  with  this  man;  for  it  is  most  improbable  that  a  man 
who  had  lived  well,  whether  Christian  or  heathen,  would 
object  to  nature  drawing  the  curtain  at  the  close  of  this  life. 
Because,  as  in  any  other  drama,  so  in  the  drama  of  life, 
such  a  man  wishes  to  see  the  next  scene. 

"  Some  there  are  who  fancy  their  happiness  best  ob- 
tained by  becoming  the  heads  of  political  circles.  Already 
they  imagine  themselves  sought  after  by  corporations,  and 
office-seekers.  Power  is  what  they  want.  They  do  not 
understand  that  happiness  and  great  power  are  not  insep- 
arably connected;  nor  does  the  fatal  mistake  of  Wolsey 
serve  to  correct  their  judgment. 

"  There  are  those  who  might  say  to  me,  it  is  ignoble  to 
teach  that  man  strives  for  his  own  happiness  rather  than 
his  neighbor's.  To  such  I  reply  that  man  in  seeking  his 
own  happiness,  most  effectually  accomplishes  that  of 
society.  We  do  not  deny  that  self-denial  is  a  principle  of 
the  human  constitution,  and  that  it  must  be  an  ever-active 
one  in  that  man  who  wishes  to  develope  the  highest  man- 
hood. Indeed,  without  any  doubt,  the  power  to  restrain,  to 
refuse  to  gratify,  is  not  less  necessary  in  the  attainment  of 
human  happiness,  than  the  power  to  accomplish.  Passive 
energy  is  as  necessary  as  active,  in  building  up  the*perfect 
man.  Nor  should  it  ever  be  forgotten  that  one  immoderate 
or  unguarded  act  may  work  a  greater  injury  than  months  of 


350  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

labor  could  repair;  aye  !  it  might  mar  or  ruin  the  whole 
life.  Yet,  even  in  the  committal  of  this  one  blasting  act, 
the  person  was  seeking  what  he  thought  was  his  own  hap- 
piness. 

"  The  non-use  of  anything,  is  its  impotence;  the  excess 
of  anything,  is  the  evil  thereof.  The  self-love  which  Christ 
condemned,  while  apparently  self-love,  is  really  self- 
destruction;  and  destruction  is  not  life's  end,  but  preserva- 
tion. Therefore  the  short-sighted  selfishness  of  the  vulgar, 
is  not  productive  of  their  happiness;  for  it  is  not  true  self- 
love.  I  can  say  without  limitation  that  no  unbridled, 
immoderate,  excessive,  or  unreasonable,  act  ever  produces 
individual  good  or  happiness.  In  the  words  of  Aristotle: 
'  Noble  action  and  happiness  are  the  same  thing.'  Nothing 
can  be  said  truer  than  this;  and  we  should  govern  ourselves 
accordingly. 

"  There  are  those  who  apparently  labor  contrary  to  all 
their  own  interests,  and  for  so  doing  earn  the  names  of 
heroes  —  in  charity,  in  philanthropy,  in  the  church,  in 
politics,  in  state,  or  on  the  field  of  battle;  but  whether  a 
man  dies  the  death  of  Nelson,  a  Howard,  a  Savonarola,  a 
Becket,  or  a  Cook,  it  may  safely  be  said  that  he  died  pursu- 
ing what  he  thought  would  most  likely  work  out  his  own 
happiness.  Great  heroes  have  great  souls,  and  great  souls 
have  good  judgments,  and  good  judgments  look  at  final 
not  less  than  immediate  results.  What  to  a  short-sighted 
man  may  appear  ruinous,  to  him  who  sees  the  end  of  things, 
may  appear  most  desirable.  But  whether  the  judgment  of 
the  worker  be  correct  or  incorrect,  I  insist  that  the  thing 
sought  in  the  activity  of  every  living  being,  is  the  laborer's 
own  happiness.  Nevertheless,  it  is  certainly  true  that 
while  all  men  aim  at  happiness,  only  the  few  succeed  in 
reaching  it.  You  say,  '  but  we  can  conceive  a  man  or 
woman  committing  an  act  which  they  know  must  be  ruin- 


HAPPINESS    AND    VIRTUE.  35 1 

ous  to  their  own  interests;  and  in  that  case,  they  can  not  be 
seeking  their  own  happiness.'  I  reply  you  are  mistaken. 
That  they  may  be  committing  an  act  which,  in  your  judgment, 
may  be  ruinous  to  their  own  interests,  I  am  willing  enough 
to  admit;  but  I  affirm  that  at  the  time  they  commit  the  act, 
however  ruinous  it  may  be,  and  however  differently  they 
might  act  in  cooler  moments,  they  are  lost  to  all  but  the 
pleasure  of  the  moment,  and  this  pleasure  appears  just 
what  they  need.  They  can  not  see  the  deadly  poison  in  the 
food  they  eat,  nor  the  fatal  fangs  of  the  serpent  they  play 
with;  rather  do  they  say  'all  is  fair,  all  is  beautiful.' 
But  after  a  time,  when  the  wickedness  which  was  conceived 
is  brought  forth,  they  behold  an  evil-shaped  monster,  rather 
than  the  beautiful  form  they  had  imagined.  That  which 
promised  to  be  their  constant  joy,  turns  out  to  be  their  cor- 
roding-sorrow. 

"  Our  blessed  Lord  was  once  asked,  what  is  truth  ;  and 
the  multitude  might  ask  him  to-day,  were  he  here,  what  is 
happiness.  The  one  great  proof  of  darkness  within,  is  the 
fact  that  while  we  think  we  are  partaking  of  some  dainty 
morsel,  we  are  not  unfrequently  found  eating  our  own  flesh. 
Not  that  we  know  we  are  acting  thus  foolishly,  for  no  man 
would  wilfully  and  knowingly  injure  himself;  but  by  the 
fallaciousness  of  our  judgment  we  may  imagine  the  shadow 
to  be  the  substance,  or  even  destroy  the  very  thing  we  are 
searching  for.  The  sunken  eye,  the  bloodless  cheek,  the  tot- 
tering gait,  the  repulsive  countenance,  the  ennui  and  lassi- 
tude, which  characterizes©  many  of  our  young  men  and  young 
women,  have  their  causes  more  frequently  in  dissipation  than 
in  any  too  severe  mental  labors.  Your  family  physician 
knows  the  truth  of  this  assertion. 

"  In  judging  what  is  for  their  own  happiness,  some  are 
almost  certain  to  be  mistaken.  Such  mistake,  when  made,  is 
not  with  all  a  sin  ;  it  may  be  only  through  a  natural  weakness. 


35 2  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

If  we  have  but  one  talent,  God  holds  us  not  responsible  for 
having  ten.  The  nature  with  which  the  child  is  endowed  is 
frequently  but  a  bow  strung  with  poisoned  arrow  aimed 
at  the  heart  of  the  child.  The  instruments  of  death  were 
prepared  for  him,  without  money  and  without  price,  in  the 
laboratory  of  his  parents.  The  sins  of  descent  are  cumula- 
tive; and  because  of  this,  man  has  an  aggravated  depravity, 
and  is  found  everywhere  deceived  and  deceiving.  His  ap- 
petites unbounded,  his  understanding  narrow;  his  desires 
devouring,  his  judgment  untrue;  his  passions  a  giant,  his 
will  a  dwarf.  Many  a  parent  deserves  no  blessing  from  the 
child  he  has  brought  into  being.  We  should  be  temperate 
in  all  things.  Thus  living,  every  house  will  be  a  church; 
in  every  heart,  enduring  joy ;  in  every  breast,  immortal  life. ' ' 


VIRTUE. 
A  Sermon  by  Henry  Merton, 

"It  was  common  among  the  Stoics  to  define  virtue,  as  a 
certain  quiet  or  rest  of  the  perturbations  and  passions;  but 
Aristotle  was  by  no  means  satisfied  with  this  definition.  In 
one  place  he  says  that  virtue  is  a  habit  or  state  of  mind, 
which  chooses  between  two  extremes — excess  and  de- 
ficiency; in  another,  that  it  is  the  finding  and  pursuing  the 
middle  course.  The  power  of  finding  and  pursuing  the  mid- 
dle course,  lies  in  the  reason.  A  virtuous  man  might  there- 
fore be  defined  as  a  man  who  lives  in  accordance  with  the 
dictates  of  the  reason.  But  just  as  surely  as  Jesus  Christ 
spoke  the  truth,  when  he  said  that  there  were  but  few  en- 
tering into  life,  .so  true  is  it  that  there  are  but  few  living  a 
life  in  accordance  with  reason. 

"From  the  practice  of  virtue,  says  Aristotle,  a  man 
becomes  virtuous;  from  the  practice  of  justice,  a  man  be- 
comes just.  So  says  St.  John :  He  that  doeth  righteousness, is 


HAPPINESS    AND    VIRTUE.  353 

righteous.  As  the  practice  of  virtue,  justice,  or  righteous- 
ness, makes  a  man  virtuous,  just,  or  righteous  ;  so  he  who 
does  not  practice  justice,  virtue,  or  righteousness,  can  never 
become  a  good  man.  The  knowledge  of  what  constitutes 
these  noble,  moral  traits,  is  not  sufficient :  right  theory  and 
proper  practice  are  each  alike  necessary  to  the  develop- 
ment of  a  good  man.  In  this,  as  in  other  arts  or  sciences, 
every  man  is  not  competent  to  theorize  for  himself ;  for 
virtue  is  as  much  the  flower  of  reason,  as  the  rose  is  the 
bloom  of  the  rose-tree.  Now  all  rose-trees  are  not  alike  : 
while  some  are  so  situated  as  to  produce  a  perfect  rose, 
others  are  not.  And  when  we  desire  to  know  the  nature  of 
a  rose,  we  never  think  of  choosing  a  stunted  and  sickly  tree; 
but  we  search  until  we  find  a  perfect  one.  Thus  when  we 
search  after  the  normal  action,  and  proper  uses,  of  the  reason, 
we  do  not  choose  for  examination  a  sickly,  poorly  endowed, 
badly  educated  mind  ;  but  one,  as  far  as  possible,  properly 
educated,  and  harmoniously  developed.  Ever  and  anon 
such  a  man  appears  ;  and,  like  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude, 
his  path  of  life  is  a  stream  of  light  emanating  from  virtue. 
Such  a  soul  is  indeed  a  true  light  that  lighteth  every  man 
that  cometh  into  the  world.  In  him  only  is  seen  the  truly 
beautiful  and  good  ;  and  he  only  has  that  reason  which 
may  be  taken  as  our  guide.  Such  a  man  has  meat  and  drink 
of  which  the  multitude  know  nothing  ;  and  to  him  nature  is 
responsive  and  the  secret  of  happiness  made  known.  To 
virtue  nothing  is  beautiful  but  truth  ;  for  virtue  seeks  great- 
ness of  soul,  and  greatness  of  soul  continually  feeds  on 
truth's  immortal  fruit.  Virtue  can  never  be  fed  on  silver  or 
gold,  or  any  other  external  adornment  ;  for  in  possession  of 
all  these,  it  would  speedily  sicken  and  die.  Virtue  lives  and 
grows  only  through  the  right  use  of  the  reason  ;  and  reason 
hath  its  perfect  work,  only  when  building  up  a  man  immortal 
and  divine.     When  we  say  that  reason  must  be  our  guide,  we 


354  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

mean  the  reason  of  the  reasonable  man.  Reason  other  than 
this,  is  no  more  to  be  trusted  as  a  guide,  than  the  stunted, 
sickly  rose  can  be  used  as  a  type  of  roses. 

"  Virtue  is  its  own  reward.  In  speaking  of  one  of  the 
elements  of  virtue,  Solomon  says  :  'She  shall  give  to  thine 
head  an  ornament  of  peace  ;  a  crown  of  glory  shall  she 
deliver  thee.'  Kingdoms  must  rise  and  fall,  nations  live  and 
perish  ;  but  the  head  that  is  decked  with  virtue's  crown, 
remaineth  king  forever.  How  petty  appear  the  objects  of 
the  vulgar  man  to  that  soul  possessed  of  the  quietude,  and 
heavenward  tendencies,  of  virtue!  Every  other  possession 
is  sought  as  a  means  ;  virtue  only  is  sought  for  itself.  Virtue 
is  true  life,  soul-life  ;  the  absence  of  virtue  is  true  death, 
soul-death.  Soul-life  is  spiritual  life,  and  spiritual  life  is 
divine  energy,  and  divine  energy  is  an  emanation  from  the 
one  Universal  Spirit,  God.  He  that  dwelleth  in  virtue, 
therefore,  dwelleth  in  God,  and  God  in  him.  The  posses- 
sion of  virtue  gives  peace,  rest,  trust,  hope,  courage  and  joy; 
the  total  lack  of  virtue  leaves  the  soul  in  outer  darkness,  and 
deplorable  misery  ;  while  the  lack  of  it,  in  any  degree,  mars 
to  that  extent  the  sacred  temple  of  God.  From  the  petty 
jealousies  and  hatreds  of  neighbors  to  the  armament  of 
continents  in  universal  strife,  every  thing  destructive  to 
human  happiness,  can  be  attributed  to  the  lack  of  virtue.  On 
the  other  hand,  whatever  happiness  is  found,  blessings  ex- 
perienced, or  peace  possessed,  may  certainly  be  said  to  be 
the  fruit  of  virtue.  Well  may  virtue  be  its  own  reward  ; 
for  with  it,  poverty  is  riches  ;  without  it,  the  millionaire  is  a 
beggar. 

"  Virtue  we  have  said  is  soul-life.  Now,  soul-life  depends 
for  its  existence  on  intercourse  with  the  Deity,  the  Uni- 
versal Soul.  The  virtuous  man,  therefore,  is  devout,  and 
ever  listening  to  the  whisperings  of  the  Infinite  Spirit. 
Quiet  within,  he  is  not  greatly  disturbed  by  the  distractions 


HAPPINESS    AND   VIRTUE.  355 

without;  his  peace  flows  like  a  river;  his  eye  sparkles  with  ce- 
lestial light;  his  heart  beats  in  unison  with  the  heart  of 
nature;  and  he  understandeth  the  words: 

1  Change  and  decay  in  all  around  I  see; 
O  Thou  who  changest  not,  abide  with  me.' 

"  How  can  such  a  soul,  fanned  by  the  gentle  breezes  of 
heaven,  be  content  in  a  polluted  atmosphere,  or  with  a  mere 
display  of  drapery !  As  day  by  day  the  feathers  appear, 
the  little  nestling  tries  to  leave  its  mother's  home.  Its  latent 
powers  are  breaking  into  activity.  It  feels  the  stirrings  of  a 
new  life;  and  longs  to  soar  into  yon  azure  skies.  So  with 
the  virtuous  man:  he  becomes  conscious  of  latent  powers; 
feels  the  stirrings  of  a  higher  life;  longs  after  suitable  com- 
panionship. Music  from  another  clime  breaks  upon  his  ears; 
multitudes  of  the  holy  and  the  just  seem  exposed  to  his 
gaze,  bathed  in  a  flood  of  divine  light;  and  he  feels  himself 
ascending,  as  he  longs  for  their  companionship. 

"  How  such  a  soul  pities  the  mass  of  mankind,  as  he  sees 
them  consumed  in  the  hells  of  their  own  making!  There 
they  lie,  without  a  drop  of  water  to  cool  their  burning 
tongues.  Deceived  and  deceiving,  they  taste  not  the  water 
of  life,  nor  eat  the  fruit  of  blissful  immortality. 

"  Let  us  choose  that  part  which  can  not  be  taken  from  us, 
which  will  stand  adversity  and  prosperity  alike,  which  is 
hopeful  in  life,  and  confident  in  death;  let  us  choose  the 
part  of  virtue;  and  soon,  as  immortal  flowers,  we  shall  grow 
and  bloom  forever  in  the  paradise  of  God." 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

DEATH   AND   IMMORTALITY. 

Non  censet  lugendum  esse  mortem  quern  immortalitas  consequatur 

He   does    not   consider  that  death  should  be  mourned,  which  im- 
mortality follows.  [Cicero) 
"Das  Grab  ist  tief  und  stille, 
Und  schauderhaft  sein  Rand; 
Es  deckt  mit  schwartzer  Huelle 
Ein  unbekanntes  Land. 

"Das  Lied  der  Nachtigallen 
Toent  nicht  in  seinem  Schoos; 
Der  Freundschaft  Rosen  fallen 
Nur  auf  des  Huegels  Moos. 

"Verlass'ne  Braeute  ringen 
Umsonst  die  Haende  wund; 
Der  WaiseKlagen  dringen 
Nicht  in  der  Tiefe  Grund. 

"Doch,  sonst  an  keinem  Orte, 
Wohnt  die  ersehnte  Ruh; 
Nur  durch  die  dunkle   Pforte 
Geht  man  der  Heimath  zu. 

"Das  arrae  Hertz  hienieden 
Von  manchem  Sturm  bewegt, 
Erlangt  den  wahren  Frieden 
Nur  wenn  es  nicht  merh  schlaegt." 

(Salis) 

V/F  ERTON  and  his  wife  had  been  visiting  a  parishoner 
very  sick  of  cancer.  It  would  be,  perhaps,  impos- 
sible to  find  stronger  evidence  of  the  vicissitudes  of  human 
affairs,  than  Merton  received  by  this  visit.  But  a  year 
before,  this  patient  had  been  in  robust  health,  and  sur- 
rounded with  contentment  and  happiness.  Now  all  was 
changed;  and  death  was  near.     On  leaving  the  residence  of 

this    sick    person,   they   wandered  in  the    cemetery    for 

356 


DEATH   AND    IMMORTALITY.  357 

some  time  among  the  sleeping  dead.      Merton's  wife  moved 
among  the  graves  like  a  drooping  lily. 

"  Harry,"  she  said,  "  before  I  knew  you,  and  for  some 
time  afterwards,  I  was  greatly  troubled  with  the  "fear  of 
death.  Do  you  know  that  that  fear  has  entirely  left  me 
now?  How  peacefully  the  dead  sleep  here  !  The  flowers 
seem  to  put  forth  more  beautiful  hues,  and  shed  a  sweeter 
fragrance,  blooming  over  such  peaceful  forms.  It  is  said, 
'God  is  not  the  God  of  the  dead,  but  of  the  living.'  I  do 
not  like  that  saying.  I  have  no  doubt  that  He  is  as  much 
the  God  of  the  dead,  as  of  the  living.  It  may  be  the  dead 
are  even  more  alive  than  the  living.  Look  at  this  tomb- 
stone, and  at  the  inscription  it  bears:  '  Sie  schlaft  in  ruhe 
—  she  sleeps  in  peace.'  How  many  German  names  are 
here  !  and  how  I  love  that  language  !  What  a  blessing  to 
think  that  God  knoweth  no  nation  as  such  !  that  all  the 
sleeping  dead,  of  whatever  kindred  or  tongue,  may  rest  in 
peace,  watched  over  by  Him  !  I  know  that  it  is  taught 
that  only  he  who  dies  in  Jesus,  may  hope  to  rest  in  peace.  But 
I  believe^  none  has  lived  so  well  as  he  might  have  lived,  and 
none  so  wickedly  ;  and  that  it  is  not  the  believer  in  this  or 
that  dogma,  of  whom  after  death  it  may  be  said,  he  rests  in 
peace.  Rather  may  it  be  said  of  him  who  in  this  life  stood 
at  his  post  of  duty,  and  did  what  he  could  for  himself  and 
others,  according  to  his  own  consciousness  of  what  was 
right.  I  love  the  blessed  Jesus,  but  I  can  not  but  believe 
that  every  man  in  the  world,  who  lives  up  to  his  own  ideas 
of  truth  and  right,  will  after  death  rest  in  peace.  Surely, 
this  is. not  the  only  world  for  rectifying  our  judgment! 
I  low  ignorant  are  the  wisest  of  us  !  how  little  our  greatest 
strength  !  What  contradictions  exist  in  the  different 
denominations  !  I  thank  God  that  I  firmly  believe  that  ail 
Christians  and  heathens  will  be  judged  by  the  same  rule  of 
justice  ;  and  that  rule  is,  in   my  opinion,  that  we   must  do 


35^  FOOTPRINTS   OP   A   SOUL. 

with  our  might  what  we  believe  we  should  do.  If  I 
believed  anything  less  than  this  of  the  goodness  and  justice 
of  God,  I  should  be  afraid  to  trust  Him,  afraid  to  die  ;  but 
I  feel  perfectly  safe  in  trusting  my  body  and  soul  to  Him. 
If  at  any  time  I  shall  learn  that  I  did  wrong,  wherein  I 
thought  I  was  right,  I  shall  not  be  afraid,  provided  I  can 
say,  Dear  Father,  forgive  me.  I  thought  in  doing  what  I 
did,  I  was  doing  thy  will. 

"  This  is  a  beautiful  cemetery,  Harry,  sweetened  by  the 
fragrant  breath  of  flowers.  I  like  the  thought  of  lying 
beside  my  people  in  my  death  ;  but  if  I  should  die,  I  would 
like  you  to  bury  me  here.  It  is  a  sweet  place,  and  you  and 
my  children  would  be  more  likely  to  visit  my  grave.  I 
want  to  live,  darling  Harry,  for  your  sake  ;  but  if  I  die,  let 
me  sleep  in  peace  here." 

"  My  lovely  Mabel,  I  trust  you  will  not  wither  away  as 
yet.  To  die  would  be  gain  to  you,  my  sweet  one  ;  but 
your  death  would  be  a  cost  to  me  that  I  could  never  pay. 
I  pray  the  dear  Father  for  my  sake  to  spare  your  precious 
life  ;  for  without  you  I  fear  I  can  not  live.  Fight  hard  for 
health,  dear  Mabel,  for  my  sake.  Courage,  you  know,  is 
half  the  battle." 

"  I  will  try  to  live,  Harry,  for  your  sake.  I  know  you 
need  me.  But  if  I  die,  you  must  not  give  way.  If  God 
takes  me  from  you,  He  will  give  you  strength  to  do  both 
your  work  and  mine.     He  doeth  all  things  well." 

"I  do  not  doubt  the  goodness  of  God,  my  darling 
Mabel,  and  that  you  know  right  well ;  but  I  can  not  bear  to 
hear  you  talk  of  leaving  me.  I  know  when  you  go  away  to 
that  better  land,  your  sun  will  rise  to  set  no  more  forever  ; 
but,  O  Mabel,  my  darling,  mine  will  go  down  to  rise  no 
more.  May  God  grant  your  translation  may  be  long  post- 
poned.     Thou   art   'so  conjunctive  to  my    life   and  soul, 


DEATH   AND    IMMORTALITY.  359 

that  as  the  star  moves  not  but  in  his  sphere,  I  could  not  but 
by  '  thee." 

"  Harry,  do  you  believe  the  dead  know  what  the  living 
do  ?  do  you  believe  the  one  may  aid  the  other  ?  " 

"  Mabel,  I  have  thought  much  on  what  you  now  ask. 
Concerning  the  future  state  we  have  no  certain  information. 
All  we  know  is  based  on  conjecture  ;  but  I  have  never  been 
able  to  see  any  valid  reason,  why  I  should  not  answer  your 
question  in  the  affirmative.  The  living  can  certainly  aid 
one  another  ;  and  if  the  dead  be  not  dead  but  living,  I 
think  it  unreasonable  to  hold  that  the  dead  and  the  living 
are  separated  by  an  impassable  gulf.  The  idea  that  they 
are,  will  not  stand  examination.  There  is  no  reason  for 
believing  that  any  other  portion  of  infinite  space  is  pro- 
vided with  a  better  place  for  heaven  than  the  part  we  now 
occupy.  The  spirit  after  death  might  move  a  thousand 
times  swifter  than  the  earth  in  her  orbit,  and  still,  in  all 
probability,  move  for  millions  of  years  through  space  filled 
with  suns  and  planets,  similar  to  those  we  know,  all  obeying 
the  law  of  gravitation,  a  law  which  we  have  every  reason  to 
believe,  is  universal.  There  must  be  a  limit  to  swiftness  of 
motion  ;  for  a  finite  being  can  not  be  everywhere  at  once. 
It  must,  therefore,  take  a  spirit  some  time  to  pass  from  one 
part  of  space  to  another  ;  and,  for  my  part,  I  do  not  like 
to  think  of  the  soul,  after  death,  as  making  a  long 
and  lonely  journey  through  the  burning  or  frozen  regions  of 
limitless  space.  Such  an  idea  of  death  is  well  set  forth  by 
the  immortal  bard  : 

"    Ay,  but  to  die,  and  go  we  know  not  where, 

To  lie  in  cold  obstruction,  and  to  rot; 

This  sensible  warm  motion  to  become 

A  kneaded  clod;  and  the  delighted  spirit 

To  bathe  in  fiery  floods,  or  to  reside 

In  thrilling  regions  of  thick  ribbed  ice; 

To  be  imprisoned  in  the  viewless  winds, 


360  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

And  blown  with  restless  violence  round  about 

The  pendant  world:  or  to  be  worse  than  worst 

Of  those  that  lawless  and  uncertain  thoughts 

Imagine  howling,  —  'tis  too  horrible. 

The  weariest  and  most  loathed  worldly  life 

That  age,  ache,  penury,  and  imprisonment 

Can  lay  on  nature,  is  a  paradise 

To  what  we  fear  of  death.'  — [Measure  for  Measure.] 

"  The  common  idea  is,  that  after  death  we  pass  some- 
where beyond  the  stars.  The  nearest  star  to  us  is  Alpha 
Centauri.  To  reach  it  a  cannon-ball  would  require  more 
than  three  million  years;  and  light,  which  moves  at  the  rate 
of  one  hundred  and  ninety-two  thousand  miles  a  second,  re- 
quires three  and  a  half  years  to  pass  from  it  to  us. 
By  this  I  mean  that  if  God  were  to  blot  out  Alpha  Centauri, 
it  would  still  appear  shining  to  us  for  three  and  a  half  years. 
The- double  star  61  Cygni  requires  a  period  of  nine  and  a 
quarter  years  to  transmit  its  light  to  us;  and  Capella  re- 
quires more  than  eight  times  the  period  of  the  latter;  while 
light  from  Alcyone,  in  all  probability,  is  not  less  than  five 
hundred  years  in  coming  to  us.  Nor  have  we  any  reason 
for  supposing  that  beyond  these  distant  worlds  there  are 
not  others" rolling,  whose  distances  are  as  great  from  these, 
as  the  distances  of  these  worlds  are  from  us.  The  universe, 
as  far  as  reason  teaches,  has  no  limits;  and  throughout  its 
awful  depths  reign  law  and  order,  and  the  whole  is  filled 
with  worlds  in  all  stages  of  perfection,  ruling  and  ruled  like 
our  own.  At  what  point  of  space  between  Alcyone  and  the 
earth  shall  we  fix  the  place  where  the  average  orthodox  be- 
liever locates  his  heaven?  and  why  should  we  fix  an  asylum 
for  the  departed  spirits,  in  such  far  off  regions  that  light  re- 
quires more  than  five  hundred  years  to  cross?  Is  it  to  find 
its  God  ?  I  answer,  I  can  not  imagine  any  place  more 
filled  with  deity  than  the  space  through  which  our  earth  now 
rolls.     I  conclude  that  there  is  no  reason  for  supposing  a 


DKATH    AND    IMMORTALITY.  36 1 

long  and  dreary  journey,  or  a  flight  in  angels'  bosoms,  for  the 
departed  spirit,  in  order  to  find  its  place  of  rest.  Heaven  is 
is  as  likely  here  as  elsewhere.  Just  where  it  is,  none  but  mad- 
men has  ever  conjectured;  but  we  can  with  as  much  reason 
fix  it  near  the  point  of  space  we  now  occupy,  as  in  any 
other.  It  is  awful  to  think  of  a  soul  wending  its  way 
through  the  dreary  abyss  of  infinite  space,  to  find  its  resting- 
place.  I  rather  like  to  think  of  the  spirit-world  as  opening 
to  the  eyes  and  ears  of  our  departing  friends,  as  the  scenes 
of  this  world  disappear.  Not  to  some  far-off  region  do  the 
spirits  of  the  departed  fly,  'blown  with  restless  violence 
round  about  the  pendant  world;'  but  though  hidden  from 
our  gaze,  they  may  yet  continue  near  us;  and  if  so,  why 
may  they  not  aid  us  ?  why  may  we  not  aid  them  ?  I  know 
we  have  no  positive  knowledge  concerning  the  future  world; 
but  it  is  my  faith  that  between  the  living  and  the  dead  there  is 
no  impassable  gulf,  except  in  states  of  being.  I,  therefore, 
pray  for  my  departed  dear  ones,  and  I  believe  they  pray  for 
me.  If  prayer  be  of  any  value,  it  is  foolishness  to  suppose 
that  it  avails  nothing  between  the  living  and  the  dead.  If 
I  should  die,  I  should  hope  to  be  able  to  watch  over  you, 
and  inspire  you  with  faith  and  trust;  if  you  should  die,  I 
should  pray  for  you,  as  I  believe  you  would  continue  to  pray 
for  me.  I  will  never  believe  that  in  death  the  soul  eternally 
dies;  and  while  I  believe  the  soul  in  death  does  not  die,  I 
shall  think  it  reasonable  to  believe  that  the  dead  know  what 
the  living  do,  and  may  help  them  in  various  ways,  more  es- 
pecially by  inspiring  them  with  high  and  noble  thoughts. 
But,  my  darling,  while  I  believe  all  this,  and  hope  it  true,  I 
yet  trust  it  will  be  many  years  before  I  shall  have  to  ex- 
change the  positive  blessings  of  this  known  existence,  which 
I  now  receive  from  your  dear  self,  for  the  hoped-for  bless- 
ings from  a  world  unknown.     Abide  with  me,  Mabel,  for 


362  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL. 

when  thou  art  near,  I  fear  no  foe ;  thy  presence  turneth  my 
darkness  into  light." 

"Your  Mabel  will  abide  with  you,  darling,  if  she  can; 
but  I  was  going  to  say,  some  of  the  teachings  of  the  church 
about  the  departed  are  very  comforting  to  me;  but  others 
are  not  so.  I  do  not  like,  lor  instance,  the  idea  of  a  fixed 
state.  It  seems  to  me  to  be  so  unlike  God,  as  manifested 
in  his  visible  works. ' ' 

"I  hardly  think,  dear  Mabel,  that  a  judgment  so  mis- 
taken and  self-contradictory  about  things  so  easily  known, 
can  be  considered  of  much  value  about  things  beyond  the 
reach  ol  human  thought.  The  church  whose  ignorance  and 
arrogance  have  led  her  to  persecute,  and  put  to  death,  the 
purest  and  best  the  world  has  ever  known, can  not  be  trusted 
to  decide  for  us  concerning  the  future.  Not  a  little  of  her 
teachings  is  the  laughing-stock  of  the  world,  at  least  of  all 
rational-minded  men;  and  her  teachings  with  reference  to 
the  unknown  world,  are  probably  as  true  as  they  have  been 
concerning  physical  science,  witchcraft, and  heresy.  Think 
what  we  will,  dear  Mabel,  about  the  future  state,  I  do  not 
believe  the  King  of  glory  is  any  less  merciful  and  good  than 
any  king  of  earth.  When  we  live,  let  us  trust  Him;  when 
we  die,  let  us  trust  Him.  He  who  watcheth  the  sparrow's 
fall,  will  not  be  unmindful  of  ours.  I  would  not  like  to  live 
without  faith  in  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  Sunshine.  Here, 
I  fancy,  we  scarcely  begin  to  know,  to  love,  or  to  do.  We 
come  into  the  world  infants  physically,  and  leave  it  infants 
mentally  and  spiritually.  Few  there  are  of  those  who  have 
lived,  who,  before  death,  attained  to  anything  like  spiritual 
symmetry,  or  soundness;  and  I  am  sure  that  the  wisest  man 
that  has  ever  lived,  has  felt,  at  the  time  of  death,  that  all 
his  learning  seemed  nothing,  as  he  thought  of  the  vast  fields 
beyond,  which  he  longed  to  explore.  It  takes  a  life-time  to 
make  a  beginning  in  the  world  of  knowledge.     Is  it  possi- 


DEATH    AND    IMMORTALITY.  363 

ble  that  so  fair  and  promising  a  flower  must  be  cut  off  in 
its  bud!  Nature  herself  seems  to  say  it  cannot  be  so. 
Such  a  spirit  as  thine,  Sunshine,  I  cannot  believe  will  die; 
it  could  not  have  been  made  to  die  eternally,  or  sleep  the 
sleep  of  death.  Rather  shall  thy  sun  shine  on,  brighter 
and  brighter,  after  all  earthly  suns  have  ceased  to  shed 
their  light;  for  thou  shalt  have  gone  to  be  nearer  to  that 
One  Infinite  Sun,  the  Life,  the  Savior,  and  the  Father  of 
all." 

Several  months  had  passed  away.  Mrs.  Merton  lay 
upon  her  dying  bed. 

"Harry,"  she  said,  "I  want  to  tell  you  that  a  few  days 
ago,  I  destroyed  all  your  love-letters  to  me.  I  am  not 
willing  that  any  eye  but  mine  should  see  the  expressions 
of  your  tender  love.  And  I  hope  you  will  burn  all  the  let- 
ters you  received  from  me,  before  my  marriage.  What  I 
wrote.  I  wrote  for  you.  I  want  you  to  destroy  them  all. 
One  thing  more,  darling,  your  Mabel  has  arranged  every- 
thing in  those  drawers.  You  know  they  will  want  clean 
clothing,  and  such  things.  You  can  tell  the  ladies  that 
they  will  find  everything  in  those  drawers. 

"And  now,  Harry,  I  feel  I  am  leaving  you  fast.  Let 
me  ask  you  to  administer  the  holy  communion." 

In  the  celebration  of  this  sacred  rite,  Merton  was  al- 
ways most  earnest  and  devout;  for  he  believed  it  his 
duty  and  privilege  to  offer  himself  therein  a  living  sac- 
rifice unto  the  God  whom  he  adored.  In  this  holy 
sacrament  he  felt  his  fellowship  with  Jesus  was  perfected. 
He  was  his  guide;  and  it  was  he  who  had  said,  "Do  this 
in  remembrance  of  me."  So  in  this  holy  rite,  Merton  re- 
membered him  as  a  preacher  of  righteousness,  as  a  savior 
of  men,  as  a  friend  of  sinners,  as  a  son  of  God,  and  finally 
as  laying  down  his  life  for  the  sake  of  the  truth.  So  when 
Merton  figuratively  drank  his  blood  or  ate  his  flesh,  he 


364  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

tried  to  offer  unto  God  a  real  offering — his  powers,  his  life, 
his  all.  This  was  his  aim,  and  such  was  his  resolution 
when  he  prepared  to  perform  this  office  for  his  dying  lov- 
ed one.  Mrs.  Merton  well  knew  his  belief,  and  that  he 
was  trying  not  only  to  be  calm  in  the  presence  of  death, 
but  also  to  drink  the  bitter  cup  he  was  offered.  As  Mer- 
ton placed  the  element  denoting  the  body,  in  the  palm  of 
her  hand,  and  said,  "The  body  of  our  L,ord  Jesus  Christ 
which  was  given  for  thee,"  he  knew  she  was  offering  her- 
self then,  that  the  offering  had  been  received,  that  she  was 
really  disappearing  from  his  view,  in  a  few  hours  to  be 
given  over  to  the  cold  embrace  of  death.  But  his  soul 
was  comforted  at  the  words,  "preserve  thy  soul  and  body 
unto  everlasting  life."  Death  could  take  her  from  him, 
and  hide  her  in  the  moldy  chambers  of  the  tomb;  but  it 
could  not  take  away  the  hope,  that  in  one  of  the  many 
mansions  the  Father  hath,  he  had  a  room  for  her,  and 
someday  would  have  one  even  for  him,  and  that  there  he 
would  see  her  again.  True  enough,  as  Kant  teaches,  Mer- 
ton well  knew  that  '  'the  permanence  of  the  soul  beyond 
life  remains  undemonstrated,  and  undemonstrable;"  but 
the  belief  in  immortality  was  too  strong  in  him  to  give  up 
the  hope  of  meeting  his  wife  again.  It  was  a  solemn  time; 
but  one  in  which  the  hope  was  strong,  that  the  spirit  shall 
not  die. 

"Harry,"  she  said,  "I  felt  prepared  before;  but  now 
everything  has  been  done  that  is  thought  proper.  Now 
go,  and  take  care  of  yourself;  look  to  your  own  health. 
Much  will  in  the  future  depend  on  you.  For  the  sake  of 
our  three  little  ones,  you  must  bear  up.  The  duty  of  mother 
and  father  must  hereafter,  dear  Harry,  fall  on  you.  I  know 
you  will  not  fail;  I  am  sure  you  will  not  be  found  wanting; 
and  may  God  pity  and  help  you,  dear  one,  when  Mabel 
shall  be  no  more. ' ' 


DEATH   AND    IMMORTALITY.  365 

"Mabel,"  said  Merton,  "tell  me,  have  you  any  fear  of 
death?" 

"I  have  no  fear  whatever, ' '  she  answered.  "The  dear 
Father  will  take  care  of  me.  I  think  it  would  be  wicked  to 
be  afraid  of  death.   How  could  I  so  mistrust  my  God!" 

"I  am  glad,  Sunshine,  to  hear  these  words.  And  just 
think  of  it, — if  you  should  leave  us  now,  you  will  find  your 
dear  mother  there  waiting  for  you.  She  is  forever  free  from 
pain  and  care.  Neither  winter's  cold  nor  summer's  heat 
will  ever  affect  her  again.  She  is  at  rest;  and  should  you 
die,  you  will  not  leave  her  behind  you  to  grieve  in  this 
vale  of  tears. ' ' 

"Call  your  mother  and  our  children,"  said  the  dying 
wife.  . 

They  stood  around  her  bed.  Tears  were  seen  in  her 
eyes,  as  she  with  difficulty  said:  "God  bless  you,  dear 
Harry;  God  bless  my  little  ones;  God  bless  dear  mother; 
God  bless  you  all." 

Merton  knelt  by  the  bedside.  "Come  nearer, ' '  she  said ; 
'  'come  nearer.  Let  me  have  your  hand  in  mine;  I  am  pass- 
ing away." 

"Dear  Sunshine,"  said  Merton,  "Tell  me,  is  there  any 
darkness  where  you  are?" 

"Darkness,  Harry!"  she  replied.  "There  is  no  dark- 
ness where  the  Father  is.     He  will  lighten  my  path." 

"Oh,  Mabel,  my  darling,  how  great  should  be  thy  joy ! 
Thou  art  going  to  see  what  the  glorious  future  is.  Oft  hast 
thou  heard  me  say  how  sweet  such  death  must  be!  how 
sweet  to  know  what  heaven  hath  in  store  for  us!  and  to  join 
the  company  of  the  holy  and  the  blessed!  Oh,  Mabel,  my 
darling,  do  not  forget  me  when  thou  art  passed  from  scenes 
of  pain.  I  shall  be  weary,  fainting,  broken-hearted,  sighing 
for  heaven  and  thee.  Do  not  forget  me,  Mabel.  I  shall  al- 
ways pray  for  thee,  and  teach  our  little  ones  to  do  so.  Help 


366  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

me,  Mabel,  from  that  better  world,  to  live  a  pure  and  holy- 
life,  and  to  be  strong  for  thine  and  mine." 

"Blessed,  blessed  Jesus,"  she  said,  gasping  for  breath. 
These  were  her  last  words.  For  about  three  hours  she.  lay- 
in  a  comatose  state,  when  her  heart  ceased  to  beat,  and  her 
breast  to  heave.  Without  a  sigh  or  murmur  she  passed 
from  Merton  into  the  unseen  world.  The  words  of  the 
beautiful  hymn  that  she  so  much  loved,  were  as  balm  to 
Merton' s  wounded  spirit: 

"My  God,  my  Father,  while  I  stray 
Far  from  my  home,  on  life's  rough  way, 

0  teach  me  from  my  heart  to  say 
Thy  will  be  done. 

"Though  dark  my  path,  and  sad  my  lot, 
Let  me  be  still  and  murmur  not, 
And  breathe  the  prayer  divinely  taught, 
Thy  will  be  done. 

"What  though  in  lonely  grief  I  sigh 
For  friends  beloved  no  longer  nigh, 
Submissive  still  would  I  reply, 
Thy  will  be  done. 

"If  thou  shouldst  call  me  to  resign 
What  most  I  love,  it  ne'er  was  mine; 

1  only  yield  thee  what  is  thine — 
Thy  will  be  done. 

"Renew  my  will  from  day  to  day, 
Blend  it  with  thine,  and  take  away 
All  that  now  makes  it  hard  to  say, 
Thy  will  be  done. 

"Let  but  my  fainting  heart  be  blest 

With  thy  sweet  Spirit  for  its  guest, 

My  God,  to  thee  I  leave  the  rest; 
Thy  will  be  done. 

The  body  was  dressed  for  the  grave  by  loving  hands; 
and  the  next  morning  it  was  placed  in  the  coffin,  which  was 
covered  with  black  broadcloth.  On  its  cover  it  had  a  plate, 


DEATH   AND    TMMORTAIJTY.  367 

in  the  form  of  a  cross,  on  which  had  been  engraved  the 
name  of  her  whom  Merton  had  so  greatly  loved. 

"Oh,  my  loved  one!"  said  Merton,  "no  more  shsltthou 
tremble  in  the  presence  of  death,  or  at  wading  the  dismal 
flood.  No  more  shall  earth's  troubles  disturb  thee,  nor 
the  words  of  unkind  ones  tear  thy  tender  breast.  Hence- 
forth thou  shalt  live  a  higher  life;  and  dressed  in  garments 
whiter  than  snow,  join  in  songs  of  praise  to  Him,  the  only 
God  and  Father  of  all.  The  courts  of  the  temple  of  the 
higher  Jerusalem  are  now  open  to  thee.  Enter  thou  into 
the  holy  of  holies.  Fields  of  brighter  glory  are  now  open 
to  thy  view.  Rejoice  and  be  exceeding  glad;  death  hath 
no  sting  for  thee,  nor  the  grave  dominion:  through  death 
hast  thou  entered  into  life." 

The  funeral  service  was  preached  by  the  bishop,  and 
the  long  procession  was  on  its  way  to  the  cemetery.  Many 
a  mourning  heart  was  there,  in  addition  to  Merton's;  but 
as  the  body  of  the  departed  one  was  borne  along  over  the 
road  which  Merton  and  Sunshine  had  so  often  trodden  to- 
gether, his  soul  was  heavy  and  his  spirits  sank  within 
him;  for  every  step  was  full  of  memories  of  the  dead. 
There  is  the  house  they  lived  in,  when  first  they  came  to 
the  city.  There  is  the  beautiful  evergreen  whose  shade 
the  departed  wife  had  so  often  sought.  There  is  the  walk 
she  had  so  often  travelled,  making  music  in  Merton's 
ears,  as  her  feet  moved  over  its  surface.  There  is  the  gate 
her  blessed  hand  had  so  oftened  opened,  sanctifying  the 
catch  she  touched.  There  is  the  beautiful  grove,  still  sing- 
ing its  wierd  music;  there  the  short  walk  through  the  pines 
and  evergreens,  which  she  so  oft  had  taken.  Here  is  the 
gate  that  opened  at  her  approach,  when  visiting  the  sick 
with  cancer,  and  the  last  through  which  her  beloved  body 
shall  ever  pass;  for  it  leads  to  the  chambers  of  the  dead, 
where  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are 

/ 


368  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A   SOUL. 

at  rest.  Here  are  the  graves  among  which  she  moved,  and 
the  epitaphs  she  read;  and  there  a  grave  newly  made,  be- 
side the  carriage-way.  The  hearse  stands  still:  this  grave 
is  for  the  body  of  Sunshine.  The  service  was  continued; 
the  coffin  lowered;  the  body  given  to  the  forces  of  destruc- 
tion; the  grave  made  redolent  with  flowers;  the  Gloria  in 
in  Excelsis  sung.  They  hid  the  coffin  from  Merton's  gaze, 
deeply  covering  it  with  new-born  earth.  The  body  of  his 
loved  one  slept  alone;  and  from  that  day,  its  sleep  hath 
been  unbroken;  and  never  again,  though  the  earth  stand 
green  forever,  and  the  heavens  pass  not  away,  shall  the 
lovely  form  of  Mabel  be  seen  among  the  living.  It  was 
then  that  Merton  thus  poured  forth  his  poetic  soul: 

"Wave  your  branches,  ye  lofty  pines,  and  chant  your 
dolorous  music.  Ye  feathered  songsters  that  warble  over 
her  resting-place,  sing  me  now  a  funeral  dirge  accordant 
with  my  soul.  Thou  glorious  sun,  vail  thy  proud  face  at 
the  sorrows  of  humanity;  and  thou  pale  moon,  pour  down 
thy  lambent  beams  on  this  our  weeping  earth.  Ye  stars, 
that  gaze  out  of  the  illimitable  depths  of  time  and  space, 
give  but  a  flickering  light;  boast  not  your  power,  your 
splendor,  your  magnitude,  your  eternity,  in  the  presence 
of  a  broken  heart.  Ye  weeping-willows,  bend  low  your 
branches,  bathe  the  earth  in  tears,  and  let  the  mournful 
vapor  rise  to  heaven,  wrapping  the  globes  in  mourning- 
weeds.  Ye  sweet  forget-me-nots,  cease'  not  to  bloom  on 
the  grave  of  her  who  sleeps,  nor  to  remind  the  living  of 
the  lovely  dead. ' ' 

As  being  among  the  forces  that  greatly  affected  Mer- 
ton's religious  conceptions,  it  is  fitting,  perhaps,  that  we 
should  say  here,  that  Merton  had  been  twice  married.  His 
first  wife  was  one  of  those  beautiful  and  loving  creatures 
born  to  inspire  man  with  courage  and  hope,  by  making  him 
conscious,  in  her  every  step,  that  all  her  happiness  is  cen- 


DEATH    AND    IMMORTALITY.  369 

tered  in  him.  In  this  beautiful  woman,  for  a  brief  period, 
Merton  found  every  desire  and  expectation  realized.  She 
then  gave  up  her  youthful  life  as  a  sacrifice  for  the  con- 
tinuance of  the  race,  the  child  following  its  mother  to  the 
grave,  after  the  brief  period  of  three  months. 

At  the  loss  of  his  first  wife,  it  were  vain  to  attempt  a 
description  of  Merton 's  suffering.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  it 
was  that  soul-felt  agony  experienced  by  every  noble  man, 
of  high  education  and  most  sensitive  nature,  when  forced  to 
let  his  wife,  to  him  the  image  of  all  perfection,  pass  into 
that  shadowy  realm  where  Death  holds  supreme  dominion. 
Bitter  was  the  cup  which  Merton  drank,  and  bitter  were 
its  dregs.  O  earth,  earth,  earth,  what  is  life  when  the  heart 
is  dead!  As  a  tree  when  struck  by  lightning,  as  a  dying 
world  that  rolls  through  sunless  space,  so  is  man  upon 
whom  the  beams  of  love  no  longer  fall. 

But  life  is  real,  and  its  duties  are  urgent;  and  man  must 
either  strive  to  overcome  by  adjusting  himself  to  his  cir- 
cumstances, or  yield  himself  up  a  prey  to  his  adversaries. 

The  influence  of  a  good  wife  is  of  inestimable  advantage 
to  a  man  in  the  ministry.  The  pastor's  relation  to  his  con- 
gregation, especially  to  the  female  part  of  it,  is  of  a  most 
delicate  nature;  and  no  unmarried  minister  is  able,  in  the 
judgment  of  a  man  of  cool,  calculating,  practical  sense,  to 
take  himself  wholly  out  of  the  plane  of  suspicion.  It  was 
this  knowledge,  added  to  his  desire  to  be  made  more  effi- 
cient, that  led  Merton,  who  was  yet  but  a  young  man,  to 
take  to  himself  his  second  wife.  It  was  a  happy  choice. 
She  was  young,  beautiful,  and  of  a  most  happy  disposition; 
and  although  Merton  had  never  ceased  to  keep  in  his  soul 
a  holy  memory  of  his  first  wife,  his  heart  was  fully  satis- 
fied, and  his  happiness  complete,  with  his  second.  Their 
union  had  also  been  blessed  with  three  of  the  loveliest 

children,  and  strengthened  by  more  than  six  years  of  happy , 
24 


370  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A   SOUL. 

wedded  life.  It  was  this  beautiful  wife,  and  holy  mother, 
that  the  grave  had  just  claimed  from  Merton. 

After  the  burial  rites  Merton  returned  to  the  parsonage. 
It  seemed  an  empty  nest.  The  air  seemed  chilly;  the  rooms 
seemed  vacant;  the  house  appeared  strange, — love  had 
flown.  The  chamber  Mrs.  Merton  had  occupied,  was  full 
of  mournful  memories;  and  the  bed  upon  which  she  lay, 
and  where  she  breathed  her  youthful  life  away,  became  to 
him  a  thing  of  pain,  and  not  the  place  of  rest.  The  sound 
of  every  foot-fall  created  expectations,  but  to  blast  them  as 
they  rose.  Oft  he  called  to  Mabel,  but  she  answered  him 
not;  oft  he  sought  her  presence,  but  failed  to  see  her  form. 
Oft  he  turned  to  speak  to  her,  to  be  mocked  by  empty  space. 
The  light  of  the  house  no  more  did  shine,  the  warmth  of 
the  hearthstone  no  more  was  felt;  no  more  was  he  influ- 
enced by  the  attractions  of  life.  The  house  was  not  home; 
for  home  itself  was  dead. 

Soon  Merton  visited  the  grave  in  company  with  his  lit- 
tle children.  Nothing  had  disturbed  the  lost  one's  resting- 
place:  she  still  slept;  and  the  odor  of  fresh  flowers  perfumed 
the  grave.  The  beautiful  lily,  though,  had  drooped  its  head, 
and  died,  as  if  of  grief  for  her  that  slept.  In  love  and  sor- 
row they  bent  their  knees;  and  there  Merton  made  for  the 
children  the  following  prayer,  as  well  that  they  might  be 
reminded  of  their  mother,  as  because  of  the  promise  he  had 
made  her: 

"O  Lord  God  Almighty,  give  rest  and  felicity  to  our 
dear  mamma  in  thy  eternal  kingdom;  and  cause  the  light 
of  thy  countenance  to  shine  upon  her,  through  Jesus  Christ, 
our  Lord."  From  that  time,  in  their  daily  prayers,  they 
never  failed  to  use  these  words.  Thus  the  memory  of  their 
mother  was  kept  ever  green  in  their  minds;  and  thus  is 
made  possible  the  realization  of  the  hope  of  spirit-com- 
munion. 


DEATH  AND   IMMORTALITY.  37  I 

Merton  had  been  brought  up  to  believe  that  everything 
which  happened  to  him,  occurred  by  God's  appointment; 
and  he  knew  well  that  this  belief  was  supposed  to  be  held 
by  Christians  in  general.  At  the  same  time  he  knew  what 
he  had  lost,  and  what  he  was  suffering  as  the  result  of  that 
loss.  He  also  knew  that  one  might  say.  as  some  one  fre- 
quently did,  that  such  suffering  or  chastisement  was  good 
for  him;  but  he  could  not  be  satisfied  with  such  an  ex- 
planation. What  had  he  done  to  be  thus  afflicted?  All 
around  him  he  saw  multitudes  of  men  whose  lives  were  a 
shame  to  themselves  and  their  friends;  yet  they  lived  and 
prospered,  and  enjoyed  the  good  things  of  this  world, 
their  dear  ones  being  with  them.  Riches,  honor, and  love 
seemed  abundantly  possessed  by  them  who  lived  without  a 
thought  of  God,  or  a  care  for  their  future  state.  They  liv- 
ed in  fine  houses,  and  possessed  many  sheep;  but  Merton 
though  having  but  one  little  lamb,  was  in  his  wretchedness 
deprived  even  of  that,  and  permitted  to  live  disconsolate. 
He  who  had  been  but  a  bruised  reed,  was  now  broken, but 
suffered  to  live  with  his  head  in  the  dust ;  he  who  had  been 
but  smoking  flax,  was  now  made  more  ready  for  the  flames. 
by  the  friction  of  pain  and  grief.  The  knowledge  of  these 
things  made  it  hard  for  Merton  to  recognize  what  is  called 
the  providence  of  God.  He  knew  he  had  prayed  and,  so 
far  as  he  could  see,  prayed  in  vain;  he  knew  he  had  knock- 
ed and,  so  far  as  he  could  see,  knocked  in  vain;  he  knew 
he  had  asked  and,  so  far  as  he  could  see,  asked  in  vain. 
Yet  would  he  often  endeavor  to  answer  himself  by 
saying:  "God's  ways  are  not  my  ways.  He  knowing 
all  things,  wisely  arrangeth  them  with  a  view  to  my  eter- 
nal welfare."  But  if  this  be  true,  at  what  a  cost  was  he 
redeemed!  Without  his  wife,  his  life  seemed  a  vacancy, 
with  her,  a  fulness;  without  his  wife,  his  life  seemed  chaos, 
with  her,    order  and  beauty;  without  his  wife  he  seemed 


372  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

weak  and  destitute,  with  her  he  seemed  strong  and  com- 
pletely furnished.  With  his  wife  he  had  much  to  be 
thankful  for:  her  companionship  sanctified  his  life,  and 
made  it  rich  and  full,  indeed,  a  foretaste  of  heaven;  with- 
out his  wife,  the  reason  for  thankfulness  seemed  taken 
away;  for  her  absence  robbed  him  of  the  beauty  of  life, 
and  made  it  beggarly  and  empty,  indeed,  a  fore-taste  of 
hell.  At  what  a  cost,  then,  was  he  redeemed!  At  what  a 
cost  obtained  he  his  salvation,  were  it  true  that  what  had 
happened  to  him  had  occurred  by  God's  appointment,  for 
the  working  out  of  his  eternal  good !  Merton  could  not 
but  think  that  an  almighty  being, full  of  love  and  wisdom, 
might  have  found  some  method  for  the  accomplishment  of 
this,  which  would  have  been  less  painful  to  him. 

We  have  no  doubt  that  the  suffering  Merton  endured 
in  those  days,  instead  of  adding  to  the  faith  of  his  child- 
hood, greatly  detracted  from  it,  by  lessening  his  faith  in 
what  is  termed  the  providence  of  God,  and  in  supernatural 
interferences.  He  never  could  believe  that  the  death  of 
his  wife  was  by  the  will  of  God;  he  always  did  believe  it 
was  the  result  of  unwise  treatment, improper  management, 
and  insufficient  care.  So  in  the  case  of  the  death  of  a  lit- 
tle son  he  had  lost :  Merton  believed  that  it  was  not  a  re- 
sult in  accordance  with  the  will  of  God,  but  of  injudicious 
treatment  or  nursing. 

By  their  death  Merton  was  made  more  practical,  more 
realistic,  more  skeptical;  less  visionary,  less  superstitious, 
less  credulous;  more  a  child  of  reason,  less  a  slave  of 
dogma. 

Easter,  Easter,  glorious  Easter!  how  I  love  thy  glorious  time! 
Alleluia!  heaven's  echoes  fill  my  soul  with  hope  divine; 
And  the  earth,  her  icy  garments  casting  off,  from  nature's  bed, 
Brings  with  joy  her  new  creation,  leaping,  bursting  from  the  dead.. 


V 


DEATH   AND   IMMORTALITY.  373 

Easter,  Easter,  heavenly  Easter!  lays  to  thee  divine  I'll  sing, 
When  thy  Son,  the  Lamb  of  Calvary  warms  my  wintry  soul  with 

spring; 
When  the  yearning  hope  within  me,  for  a  power  from  death  to  save, 
Rises  clad  with  exultation  at  the  Christ  who  bursts  the  grave. 

Easter,  Easter!  saints  and  angels,  all  creation's  wide  domain, 
Bring  to  thee  their  alleluias  ;  and  we  join  their  sweet  refrain: 
Alleluias  to  the  Father,  alleluias  to  the  Son, 
Alleluias  to  Jehovah,  to  the  great  Eternal  One. 

Easter,  Easter,  joyful  Easter!  O,  what  human  tongue  can  tell 
What  a  comfort  thou  dost  bring  us,  ever  here  with  us  to  dwell: 
What  a  radiant  light  thou  pourest  on  this  palsied  soul  of  mine, 
What  a  glory  all-transcendent;  aye!  I  feel  its  power  divine. 

O  my  soul!  thy  jubilations  make  thee  tremulous  with  praise, 
And  thy  being,  thrilled  with  rapture  tuned  to  all  creation's  lays, 
Bursting  with  its  glad  TeDeums  for  the  Christ  who  came  to  save, 
Now  peals  forth    the    song    triumphant:   Christ  is  risen  from  the 
grave. 

Easter,  Easter,  day  triumphant,  day  of  God's  redeeming  love, 
When  the  mortal  spirit  vibrates  with  the  harmony  above; 
When  the  cerement,  which  confines  me,  scarce  prevents  the  up- 
ward flight 
Of  my  soul  redeemed, victorious, from  the  shadowy  realms  of  night. 

Aye  !  my  soul  now  rides  the  billows  swelling  from  sepulchral  gloom 
Surging  o'er  the  blasted   nations,  sweeping  'fore  it  death's   dark 

doom ; 
Rising  to  the  throne  eternal,  bathing  Chaos'  wide  domain, — 
Hark!  I  hear  the  whole  creation  chanting  loud  this  Easter  strain: 

Alleluia  to  the  Father,  alleluia  to  the  Son, 
Alleluia  to  the  Spirit,  God  eternal,  Three  in  One; 
Alleluia  to  the  Victor  leading  Death  in  captive's  chain; 
Alleluia,  alleluia!  Christ  the  Lord  is  come  to  reign. 

H.T.  B. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

AN  INQUISITIVE  VISITOR. 

Neque  decipitur  ratio,  nee  decifit  nunquam — 

Reason  is  never  deceived,  nor  does  it  ever  deceive. 

(Cicero.) 
Moneo  ut  ageyitem  te  ratio  ducat,  non  fortuna — 
I  advise  thee  that  in   thy  action   reason   not  fortune  may  be 
thy  guide.  (Livy.) 

\Zl  ERTON  was  sitting  one  evening  in  his  study,  when  he 
fell  into  a  reverie.     While  in  this  state  he  imagined 
that  the  air  of  his  room  became  redolent  with  the  most 
heavenly  fragrance,  and  that  he  heard  a  voics  saying: 

"Thou  earnest  seeker  after  the  truth,  thou  so  greatly 
tossed  on  the  ocean  of  doubt  and  uncertainty,  look  up;  for 
he  in  whom  thou  so  greatly  delightest,is  present  with  thee. ' ' 

In  his  mind  Merton  raised  his  head  from  his  study-table. 
There  stood  before  him  a  being  of  most  surpassing  majesty, 
whose  eyes  shone  like  most  resplendent  suns.  In  his  hand 
he  carried  a  shining  sword  with  hilt  bestudded  with  pre- 
cious gems,  and  on  which  was  written,  in  letters  of  gold, 
"The  sword  of  truth." 

"Who  art  thou?"  asked  Merton  in  his  reverie;  "and 
what  is  thy  mission,  thou  most  glorious  being?  Surely  thou 
art  one  of  the  immortals,  whom  death  toucheth  not.  Yea, 
thou  appearest  as  one  of  the  gods  who  take  counsel  with 
the  Father,  and  know  the  secrets  of  nature." 

"I  am  Reason,"  he  answered,  "sent  forth  by  the 
Father  of  the  gods  to  commune  with  thee.  Thou  recog- 
nizest  me  not,  because  of  the  outward  form  which  I  now 
assume;  although  I  have  often  come  to  thine  aid  before.  I 
am  now  present  to  commune  with  thee,  as  if  mortal  with 
mortal,  about  the  groundwork  of  thy  faith  and  work.  I  have 
many  matters  to  discuss  with  you;  but  they  are  all  so  impor- 

374 


an  inquisitive;  visitor.  375 

tant  that  I  regard  it  immaterial  whether  I  state  the  first 
last,  or  the  last  first.  I  see  you  have  the  Hebrew  bible  in 
your  hands.  Do  you  prefer  the  original  to  the  transla- 
tions ? " 

"  I  always  make  it  a  practice,  Reason,  to  read  the  He- 
brew bible  every  day.  I  have  read  it  through  nearly  three 
times;  and  as  in  reading  it  one  can  more  clearly  see  the 
true  or  radical  meaning  of  the  words,  I  prefer  the  Hebrew 
to  any  translation." 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  so  well  acquainted  with  the  Hebrew. 
It  certainly  enables  you  to  escape  many  of  the  errors  of  the 
accepted  version;  but  your  interpretation  would  be  much 
more  exact,  had  you  a  lexicon  prepared  by  some  one  with- 
out Christian  or  Jewish  bias.  The  bible,  as  you  know, 
stands  upon  the  lectern  of  your  church,  as  the  very  word  of 
God;  and  from  what  the  people  hear  their  ministers  say 
about  it,  and  its  conspicuous  position  in  the  church,  they 
naturally  enough  regard  it  as  proceeding  from  the  very 
mouth  of  God.  Have  you  yourself  no  doubts  about  its  in- 
spiration ?" 

"  I  believe  the  bible,  Reason,  is  a  holy  book,  full  of 
eternal  truth,  and  as  such  fit  to  be  your  guide." 

"  That  is  not  an  answer  to  my  question.  Do  you  to-day, 
as  you  did  in  times  past,  believe  that  those  who  wrote  the 
bible,  did  so  under  the  immediate  guidance  of  God  ? " 

"  In  my  childhood,  O  Reason,  I  regarded  the  bible  as 
divine  and  infallible;  but,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  since  I  have 
learned  what  I  have  from  you,  although  I  accept  it  as  con- 
taining much  of  holy  truth,  I  do  not,  and  can  not,  regard  it 
any  longer  as  literally  inspired." 

"  With  regard  to  such  a  book,  it  is  nonsense,  if  not  wicked, 
to  talk  of  literal  inspiration.  I  am  glad  you  have  given  up 
that  idea.  That  ministers  deceive  the  people  as  they  do,  is 
not  a  difficult  fact  for  me  to  explain;  but  it  is  one  which 


376  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL. 

heaps  disgrace  on  them.  I  have  often  smiled  on  hearing 
them  read  the  twentieth  chapter  of  Exodus,  how  that  God 
with  his  finger  wrote  the  ten  commandments,  and  gave  them 
to  Moses.  I  have  told  you,  as  I  have  tried  to  tell  them,  that 
the  ten  commandments  know  no  such  origin;  nor  from  my 
knowledge  of  the  history  of  the  Jewish  religion,  and  the 
many  other  religions  of  the  world,  can  I  admit  that  Moses 
was  ever  their  author.  I  can  not  tell  you  exactly  what  the 
work  of  Moses  was;  but  I  do  emphatically  deny  that  he 
was  really  the  author  of  the  ten  commandments.  Moses 
was  a  wise,  shrewd  and  great  character.  He  was  a  Hebrew 
of  the  tribe  of  Levi,  who  in  the  natural  course  of  events 
had  received  the.  benefit  of  a  thorough  Egyptian  education, 
and  the  standing  of  the  ruling  caste  in  that  country.  But 
though  indebted  to  Egypt  for  his  education  and  social  stand- 
ing, he  felt  still  greater  obligations  to  his  own  kindred; 
and  when  he  saw  them,  once  free  men  of  the  plains,  now 
serfs  of  their  Egyptian  lords,  he  determined  on  their  deliv- 
erance, and,  with  this  object  in  view,  set  himself  at  their 
head.  Having  had  all  the  benefits  of  a  learned  Egyptian 
education,  he  was  well  acquainted  with  Egyptian  cosmogony, 
theology,  and  such  sacred  writings  as  were  extant,  and 
known  to  the  priests  of  that  religious  country.  I  am  willing 
to  admit  that  Moses  may  have  formed  a  kind  of  digest  out 
of  the  materials  known  to  him  on  the  subject;  that  he  may 
have  purified  and  simplified  the  modes,  forms,  and  cere- 
monies, of  religious  worship;  that  from  his  superior  mind 
stored  with  the  varied  learning  of  the  times,  he  may  have 
made  some  original  contributions  to  such  digest;  that 
assisted  by  his  father-in-law,  Jethro,  a  priest  of  Sinai,  he  may 
have  given  the  Israelites  their  national  god,  Jahve;  but  that 
there  was  anything  miraculous  about  the  work  of  Moses,  or 
about  the  origin  of  the  ten  commandments,  I  emphatically 
deny;  and  I  insist  that  it  is  very  wrong  in  ministers  to  teach 


AN   INQUISITIVE   VISITOR.  377 

that  there  is.  Ministers  are  too  fond  of  either  not  stating 
known  facts  at  all,  or,  which  is  about  as  bad,  of  only  half 
stating  them.  They  give  the  people  to  understand  that 
the  first  five  books  of  the  bible  were  written  by  Moses;  yet 
they  know,  or  should  know,  that  they  were  not.  The  so- 
called  books  of  Moses  were  written  hundreds  of  years  after 
he  had  passed  away;  and  their  substance  had  been  handed 
down  by  tradition  and  legend." 

"  Then  you  teach,  O  Reason,  that  the  Jahve  of  the  Israel- 
ites was  only  one  god  among  the  many  who  were,  in  those 
days,  thought  to  rule  over  the  affairs  of  men." 

"I  have  said,  sir,  that  Moses  may  have  given  the  Israel- 
ites their  national  god,  Jahve.  This  is  only  what  he  would 
have  been  expected  to  do,  since  in  those  days  every  people 
had  their  national  god.  The  name  he  chose  for  the  god  o'f 
the  Israelites  was  Jahve,  a  word  not  of  Hebrew  origin,  when 
taken  in  the  sense  in  which  Christians  use  it.  Jethro,  priest 
of  Sinai,  and  father-in-law  of  Moses,  may  have  been  Moses' 
advisor  in  choosing  this  name;  or  he  may  have  given  the 
word  to  Moses  independently,  as  an  appropriate  name  for 
the  god  of  the  people  over  whom  Moses,  his  son-in-law,  was 
to  rule  as  priest,  and  king,  and  legislator. 

"  I  can  not  tell  you  exactly  who  are  the  authors  of  the 
different  books  of  the  Old  Testament,  any  more  than  I  can 
tell  you  for  certain  who  are  the  authors  of  all  those  of  the 
New  Testament.  The  learned  Spinoza,  you  remember,  held 
that  the  writings  of  the  Old  Testament  were  not  produced 
until  the  time  of  Ezra.  So  much  I  can  say:  the  writings  of 
the  Old  Testament  grew  as  the  sacred  writings  of  other 
peoples  ;  and  they  contain,  as  all  other  such  writings,  much 
that  is  good,  and  much  that  is  evil.  I  should  find  no  fault, 
if  ministers  would  tell  the  people  the  truth  about  the  bible. 
It  is  not  a  miraculous  book.  The  bible,  as  all  other  similar 
books,  is  largely  the  product  of  traditions  and   legends,  and 


378  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

treats  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  a  people,  of  their  warriors, 
priests,  prophets,  morals,  cosmogony,  and  theology.  The 
historical  books  of  the  Old  Testament  were  for  the  first 
time  subjected  to  a  comprehensive  revision  during  the 
Babylonian  exile.  Says  Prof.  Carl  Heinrich,  an  orthodox 
theologian  of  the  University  of  Koenigsburg,  speaking  of 
the  books  of  the  Pentateuch:  'Not  before  the  exodus 
from  Egypt  can  we  speak  in  a  strict  sense  of  a  history  of 
the  people  of  Israel.  All  that  lies  before  this  point  of  time, 
may  be  characterized  as  prehistoric.  Even  if  we  regard  Mo- 
ses as  the  author  of  the  five  books  which  bear  his  name,  yet 
concerning  this  remote  epoch,  separated  from  its  own  by  a 
series  of  centuries,  Moses  himself  would  have  had  to  re- 
sort to  oral  tradition.  It  was  impossible  for  him  to  report 
these  things  as  eye-witness.  But  it  is  now  generally  con- 
ceded that  Moses  can  not  possibly  be  the  author  of  the 
books  named  after  him.  These  books  originated  from  the 
comprehensive  digestion  of  a  whole  series  of  independent 
written  sources,  of  which  the  oldest  can  not  be  older  than 
King  Solomon,  nor  yet  much  later,  and  written  conse- 
quently between  goo  and  850.  Any  comprehensive  and 
coherent  work  earlier  than  900  can  not  be  proved.  The 
material  contents,  the  ingredients  of  these  narrations,  must 
be  regarded  from  the  point  of  view  of  popular  tradition,  or 
legend.  It  remains  utterly  impossible  to  state  precisely  and 
positively  of  what  the  work  of  Moses  really  consisted; 
since,  however  unwelcome  the  truth  may  be,  not  even  the 
ten  commandments  may  be  regarded  as  actually  formu- 
lated by  Moses.  We  have  here  only  an  inverted  conclusion 
from  effect  to  cause. '  In  theological  discussion  the  aver- 
age minister  invents  illogical  issues,  to  inflame  the  minds 
of  his  hearers.  Denying  a  special  revelation,  I  am  charged 
with  denying  the  sacred  character  of  the  Scriptures;  deny- 
ing the  deity  of  Christ,  I  am  charged  with  denying  the 
usefulness  and  beauty  of  his  life.  Reason  must  ever  revere 


AN   INQUISITIVE    VISITOR.  379 

the  sacred  impressions  which  the  infinite  Spirit  hath  made, 
and  is  making,  on  the  mind  and  the  heart  of  man,  in  awak- 
ening in  him  a  sense  of  his  Creator's  will;  nor  less  ac- 
knowledge the  leadership  of  him  who  is  first  among  the 
Lord's  begotten.  I  would  for  the  sake  of  truth  that  the 
whole  bible  were  subjected  to-day  to  a  thorough  purging. 
It  is  a  good  book;  but  it  might  be  made  a  much  better  one, 
if  its  absurdities,  contradictions,  immoralities,  and  even 
obscenities,  were  purged  away.  That  ignorant  people 
should  claim  God  as  its  immediate  author,  we  should  of 
course  expect,  as  similar  claims  are  made  for  all  the  dif- 
ferent bibles  of  the  world.  But  when  I  see  men  who  pro- 
fessedly have  sat  under  my  instructions  in  schools  and 
seminaries,  making  such  claims,  I  feel  offended  as  well  as 
ashamed, — offended  because  of  my  love  for  the  truth,  and 
ashamed  because  of  their  real  ignorance  or  insincerity. 
Let  others  do  as  they  will;  you,  I  hope,  will  not  claim  God 
as  the  author  of  a  book  which,  to  a  large  extent,  might  be 
greatly  improved  by  the  revision  of  a  good  man;  and  which, 
in  no  sense,  calls  for  any  other  origin  than  a  purely  human 
and  natural  one." 

"My  acquaintance  with  you,  O  Reason,  has  led  me  to 
refuse  my  assent  to  anything  as  having  a  miraculous  origin 
for  which  a  natural  one  maybe  reasonably  inferred;  and  to 
refuse  my  assent  to  the  genuineness  of  a  reported  miracle, 
unless  substantiated  by  evidence  whose  nature  is  like  that 
which  it  is  claimed  to  substantiate, — that  is,  unless  the  so- 
called  miracle  be  substantiated  by  supernatural  evidence.  I 
do  not  believe  that  a  miracle  has  ever  occurred.  I  find  a 
full  and  sufficient  cause  in  man,  nursed  as  he  naturally  is  by 
the  fostering  care  of  God,  for  all  that  the  bible  contains.  I 
claim  the  bible  to  be  a  holy  book,  because  it  deals  with  that 
which  is  most  sacred  and  dear  to  the  human  heart;  but  I 
find  in  man,  as  I  have  said,  a  sufficient  and  reasonable  cause 


380  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

for  whatever  I  find  therein.  I  fully  agree  with  you,  O 
Reason,  that  there  is  nothing  miraculous  or  supernatural 
about  the  origin  of  the  ten  commandments,  nor  any  other 
portion  of  the  bible  ;  nor  do  I  teach  my  people  that  there  is." 

"Your  conduct  meets  my  approbation  ;  "but  I  fear  your 
brethren  of  the  clergy  will  suspect  you  of  trying  to  steal 
away  their  household  gods,  and  your  bishop  of  trying  to 
remove  the  strongest  sanction  for  his  proud  and  superstitious 
claims." 

"  Of  that,  O  Reason,  I  can  not  speak.  But  painful  as  it 
may  be,  I  will  follow  your  guidance,  and  leave  the  results 
with  God, — not  the  god  Jahve  of  whom  you  have  been  speak- 
ing, but  with  God,  the  one  and  only  Universal  Father  of  all 
nations  and  worlds." 

"  During  almost  every  church  service,  you  say:  '  God 
spake  these  words  and  said,  Thou  shalt  have  no  other  gods 
before  me.'  If,  as  you  say,  you  do  not  believe  that  the  ten 
commandments  were  given  directly  by  God  to  Moses,  do 
you  not  feel  some  hesitation,  some  conscientious  scruples, 
when  you  utter  these  words  ?" 

"  I  confess,  O  Reason,  that  I  do.  But  since  as  often  and 
fully  as  possible  I  give  the  people  to  understand  my  belief 
concerning  these  matters,  I  comfort  myself  with  the  thought 
that  I  can  not  be  justly  charged  with  hypocrisy.  Perhaps  you 
would  say  that  I  am  at  least  guilty  of  idly  using  the  name  of 
God  ;  but  I  do  not  think  you  would,  if  you  thoroughly  con- 
sidered the  matter." 

"  To  take  the  name  of  God  in  vain,  is  certainly  a  great  sin; 
but  when  I  say  this,  as  I  do  not  mean  the  god  of  the  super- 
stitious Greek,  so  do  I  not  mean  the  god  of  the  superstitious 
Israelite.  The  Israelitish  conception  of  God,  was  but  little 
if  any  different  from  that  of  the  other  uncivilized  nations  of 
those  days.  Their  god  gave  Moses  the  ten  commandments  ; 
in  like  manner  did  the  god  of  the  Greeks  give  his  decrees  to 


AN    INQUISITIVE    VISITOR.  3S1 

Rhadamanthus.  If  Moses  had  a  difficult  problem  to  solve 
he  sought  the  aid  of  his  god  ;  in  like  manner  did  Minos 
repair  to  his  deity,  and  ask  his  advice,  when  in  similar  dif- 
ficulties. When  Moses  wished  to  converse  with  his  god,  he 
went  to  the  top  of  Mount  Sinai  ;  so  with  the  Greeks, — the 
home  of  their  god,  who  was  the  father  of  the  gods  and  men, 
was  the  cloud-enveloped  Mount  Olympus.  The  heathen 
gods  were  mighty  in  battle  ;  in  like  manner  was  the  god  of 
the  Jews  a  man  of  war.  As  the  various  heathen  gods  were 
rivals,  and  actuated  by  jealousy,  so  was  it  with  the  god  of 
the  Israelites,  who  said,  '  Thou  shalt  not  have  any  other  gods 
before  me.'  It  were  impossible  that  such  a  command  could 
come  from  the  one  infinite  and  eternal  God  who  knows,  as  no 
finite  being  can,  that  He  is  God  alone.  The  gods  of  the 
heathens  were  sometimes  overcome  ;  so  with  the  god  of  the 
Israelites,  whose  most  sacred  dwelling-place,  the  ark,  was 
captured,  and  who  could  not  drive  out  the  inhabitants  of  the 
valley,  because  they  had  chariots  of  iron.  They  were  also 
at  times  outwitted  ;  so  with  the  god  of  the  Israelites,  of 
whom  it  is  said,  the  devil  having  succeeded  in  destroying  his 
plans,  '  It  repented  the  Lord  that  he  had  made  man  on  the 
earth,  and  it  grieved  him  at  his  heart.'  The  gods  of  the 
heathens  used  to  plot  and  deceive  ;  so  with  the  god  of  the 
Israelites,  who  could  purposely  harden  Pharoah's  heart,  send 
a  lying  spirit  to  deceive  Ahab  the  king,  and,  at  another  time, 
to  deceive  a  prophet.  As  the  heathen  gods  were  supposed 
to  enjoy  the  smell  of  sacrifices,  and  the  sight  of  the  victim's 
blood,  so  with  the  god  of  the  Israelites,  who  smells  a  sweet 
savor,  and  around  whose  altar  the  blood  of  the  victim  is 
sprinkled  ;  for  '  without  the  shedding  of  blood,  there  is  no 
remission  of  sins.'  As  the  heathen  gods  were  often  at  war 
one  with  another,  so  with  the  god  of  the  Jews, — '  And  there 
was  war  in  heaven  ;  Michael  and  his  angels  fought  against 
the  dragon.'     The  Israelitish  conception  of  God  was  that 


3^2  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

which  was  commonly  held  in  those  times,  no  better,  no 
worse  ;  but  it  was  infinitely  inferior  to  that  afterwards  held 
by  the  noble  minds  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans. 

"  But  when  you  say  in  the  service,  '  God  spake  these 
words  and  said,'  although  in  these  words  there  is  no  literal 
truth  whatever  ;  yet,  since  you  convey  to  the  audience  the 
idea  that  the  one  and  only  God  gave  the  ten  commandments 
directly  to  Moses,  it  would  be  speaking  his  name  in  vain, 
unless  you  gave  the  people  to  understand  your  belief  in  the 
matter.  But,  having  done  this,  it  would  not  be  taking  God's 
name  in  vain,  to  read  these  words,  though  you  disbelieve  in 
their  literal  truth.  However,  to  say  with  the  lips  one  thing, 
and  in  the  heart  believe  another,  is  a  most  dangerous  prac- 
tice, and  one  which  can  not  be  too  strongly  condemned.  It 
is  hard  to  see  how  one  who  does  not  believe  in  the  literal 
truth  of  these  words,  can  consistently  utter  them.  Here 
there  is  good  reason  for  your  hesitation,  your  conscientious 
scruples.  I  advise  you  to  act  with  great  care  in  the  matter, 
lest  in  trying  to  save  a  little,  you  waste  much." 

"  Since  you  first  began  to  visit  me,  O  Reason,  and  ask  me 
your  searching  questions,  I  have  wished  over  and  over  I  had 
never  seen  the  work'of  the  ministry  ;  but  having  entered  it, 
it  is  hard  to  turn  aside, — hard  because  of  the  difficulty 
experienced  in  falling  readily  into  new  lines  of  work,  hard 
because  of  disavowing  openly  what  you  have  as  openly 
avowed,  and  hard  because  there  are  some  holy  things  con- 
nected with  such  a  life.  In  my  heart  I  long  for  a  pure  and 
simple  theology,— a  theology  rid  of  all  the  grossly  anthro- 
pomorphic conceptions  which  prevail  in  all  the  churches  of 
orthodoxy.  I  sometimes  hope  to  see  that  day  when  the 
churches  will  shake  off  the  filth  of  dark  ages,  and  clothe 
themselves  about  with  a  more  glorious  clothing  ;  when 
priestly  vestments  will  be  no  longer  soaked  in  the  blood  of  a 
vicarious  sufferer,  nor  a  soul  be  cast  into  hell  because  he 


AN    INQUISITIVE    VISITOR.  383 

does  not  recognize  in  a  human  form  the  all-prevailing  and 
infinite  God.  God  have  mercy  on  me,  and  direct  my  ways  ! 
They  are  dubious  and  dark  ;  yet  I  will  go  along  trusting  in 
Him,  to  bring  me  into  the  way  wherein  I  should  go.  Surely, 
O  Reason,  you  can  not  think  me  worthy  of  censure." 

"  Considering  all  things  I  do  not.  I  recognize  your 
difficult  position,  and  can  not  but  sympathize  with  you.  Do 
not  be  discouraged.  If  you  are  honest,  and  continue  to 
search  after  the  truth,  the  way  will  appear  more  and  more 
plain  to  you.  The  theology  you  speak  of,  will  not  be  long 
in  coming;  but  I  fear  its  coming  will  not  be  in  your  day. 
The  interests  of  powerful  organizations  are  opposed  to  such 
a  change.  These  vast  bodies  will  hold  their  ground  as  long 
as  possible,  but  little  by  little  will  they  be  forced  to  yield; 
and  finally,  pressed  on  all  sides,  they  shall  flee  from  the  field, 
and  truth  shall  claim  the  victory.  It  is  natural  enough 
that  the  priests  of  Christendom  should  teach  their  people 
that  Christianity  is  the  only  divine  religion,  and  that  it  will 
continue  forever;  for  the  priests  of  all  other  religions  do 
likewise.  It  is  to  their  interests  thus  to  act.  Christianity, 
like  all  the  other  great  religions,  is  only  a  stepping-stone,  a 
stage,  a  scaffolding,  upon  which,  if  the  earnest  and  thought- 
ful man  stand,  he  is  better  enabled  to  reach  after  pure 
theism.  God  leads  the  minds  of  men,  step  by  step,  into  a 
simple  and  pure  theology.  Believe  me,  all  religions  are,  in 
a  measure,  useful  for  the  time  and  place;  they  all  vary  as 
the  minds  of  their  adherents  become  enlightened;  they  all 
have  earnest,  though  deluded,  priests  and  bishops;  and 
what  is  best  of  all,  they  all  have  something  of  good  mixed 
with  much  that  is  evil.  They  all,  though  in  a  bloody  and 
most  repulsive  way,  offer  a  road  to  life;  they  all  serve,  in  a 
measure,  to  strengthen  the  weak  and  despairing;  and  they 
^:ve  their  adherents  the  hope  of  rejoining  their  friends  after 
death.     They  all  come  professedly  with  a  blessing  for  their 


384  FOOTPRINTS   OP   A   SOUL. 

followers,  and  at  times  a  real  blessing  is  received;  though 
not  unfrequently  the  value  of  the  blessing  received,  is  more 
than   outweighed  by  the  attendant  and  consequent  evils. 
To  him  who  has  no  taste,  the  bitter  is  as  the  sweet;  so  to 
the  unenlightened  mind,  the  greatest  of  errors  may  appear 
the  profoundest  of  truth.     It  is  to  the  ignorant,  therefore, 
that  the  religions  of  the  day  appear  dressed  in  such  attract- 
ive clothing;  the  thoughtful  soul  can  find  in  them  but  little 
attraction    for   him.     Indeed,  the    prevailing   religions   are 
painful   to    him.     He  sees  the  cunning  and   hypocrisy  of 
those  who  sell  the  wares,  as  well  as  the  worthlessness  of 
most  of  the  wares  that  are  sold.     Therefore  he  does  not  in- 
vest.    It  is  because  of  this  that  the  really  great  and  pure 
souls  stand  alone  in  the  world:  they  have  but  little  sympa- 
thy from  the  age  they  live  in.     This  is  as  true  of  Socrates 
as  of  Christ;  as  true  of  one  age  as  of  another.     By  his  ac- 
cusers Socrates  was  thought  an  infidel;  so  in  all  probability 
was  Christ.     What  was  true  of  them,  has  been,  and  will  be, 
true    of    their    noble    and   pure-minded    brethren.      Truly 
enough  may  it  be  said  of  such,  they  are   not  of  this  world; 
yet  on  them  do  the  hopes  of  this  world  hang.     You  remem- 
ber the  passage,  '  In  the  beginning  was  the  Word  and  the 
Word  was  God.'     Here  we  have  a  good  example  of  how 
shamefully  and  wickedly  translators  do  bend  the  sense  of 
the   original  to  suit  their  own   crooked  minds.     It  should 
read,  In  the  beginning  was  reason  and  reason  was  God.    In 
such  a  rendering  of  the  original,  we  would  have  a  positive 
truth.     God  is  reason;  and,  therefore,  l^t  me  advise  you  to 
live  a  reasonable  life.     As  much  as  possible  seek  a  reason 
for  all  you  say  and   do:  for  all   your  faith,  your  hope,  and 
your  fears.     Follow  after  reason,  let  her  not  depart  out  of 
thy  sight;  and  the  Infinite   Reason   shall  shine  forth  more 
and  more,  making  thy  night  bright  as  the  day. 

"  I  have  said  all  I  will  for  the  present.     When  I  come 


AN   INQUISITIVE  VISITOR.  385 

again  to  question  you,  I  hope  that  I  may  find  you  still 
more  ready  to  receive  me,  and  listen  to  my  advice.  In  all 
your  ways,  be  thoughtful,  studious,  honest,  truthful,  and 
sincere.  He  who  thus  lives,  lives  most  religiously,  and, 
in  due  time,  becomes  most  like  God. ' ' 

As  this  noble  visitor  left  him,  Merton  could  not  but  ad- 
mit, in  his  mind,  the  beauty,  simplicity,  harmony,  and 
reasonableness  of  his  visitor's  remarks;  and  he  determined, 
by  God's  help,  to  follow  more  fully  than  ever  the  advice 
he  had  received. 

Before  the  gods  had  jet  been  born, 
When  Chaos  ruled  and  Night; 
Before  creation  had  its  form, 

Its  harmony  and  right; 
When  law  was  not,  nor  time,  nor  season 
Alone  was  universal  Reason. 

Throughout  the  wide  unbounded  tomb, 

Was  hid  naught  from  thy  sight; 
Thou  didst  arise,  dispel  the  gloom 

With  thy  all-searching  light; 
For  God  thou  wert,  and  God  was  Reason, 

And  by  thee  all  was  made  in  season. 

(H.  T.  B.) 


CHAPTER    XXXVII. 

GOD  AND  THE  WORLD. 

Credebas    dormienti    haee    tibi   confecturos     deos? — 
Terence:   Adel.  6gj. 

We  are  children  of  a  day;  mankind  the  offspring  of 
untold  ages.  Humanity  is  one  and  all  preceding  gen- 
erations are  our  parents.  To  these,  therefore,  we  should 
go  for  whatever  instruction  they  may  be  able  to  give 
us;  and  few  indeed  are  the  questions  on  which  the 
master-minds  of  old  can  shed  no  light. 

Somewhere  about  2,500  years  B.  C.  a  conquering  peo- 
ple were  migrating  southward,  coming  from  along  the 
waters  of  the  Oxus,  in  north-western  Asia.  They  were 
Sanscrit- speaking  Aryans,  and  of  the  stock  from  which 
we  have  sprung.  As  with  their  descendants  of  to-day,  so 
with  them — ruin  and  death  marked  their  path.  They 
robbed,  dispossessed,  and  killed;  and  in  time  founded  the 
peoples  of  Persia,  Greece,  and  Rome.  Many  of  them  set- 
tled in  India.  The  earliest  account  we  have  of  them  is 
found  in  the  Rig- Veda.  Varuna  was  the  all-encompassing 
Deity,  upholding  earth  arid  sky,  omnipresent,  omniscient, 
the  serene,  universal  majesty.  Two  other  but  inferior 
deities  were  Indra  and  Agni,  the  former  being  the  god  of 
beneficence  and  the  latter  the  god  of  fire.  Marriage  was 
sacred,  women  highly  respected,  the  forces  of  nature 
adored,  and  the  doctrine  of  immortality  taught.  Long 
after  this,  somewhere  about  a  thousand  years,  these  in- 
vaders had  planted  themselves  firmly  along  the  banks  of 
the  Ganges,  and  the  caste  system  had  sprung  up.  The 
Supreme  Being  is  called  Brahma,  forth  from  whom  the 
universe  forever  flows.  All  nature  is  animated.  The 
doctrine  of  metempsychosis  is  taught;  and  he  who  dies  in 
sin,  is  doomed  to  repeated  incarnations,  until  he  shall  have 
atoned  for  his  wrong-doing,  and  arrived  at  that  state  of 
perfection  which  fits  him  for  union  with  Brahma,  where 
only  eternal  bliss  is  found. 

Not  knowing  in  what  form  of  life  the  re-incarnated 
spirit  might  take  up  its  abode,  a  deep  and  abiding  love 

386 


GOD   AND  THE  WORLD.  387 

for  all  creatures  was  earnestly  inculcated,  and  a  close 
union  between  man  and  the  rest  of  nature  was  consciously 
felt.  Thus,  although  among  the  earliest  of  our  forefath- 
ers of  whom  we  have  any  trust-worthy  account,  these 
people  do  not  leave  us  in  doubt  as  to  their  ideas  concern- 
ing the  relation  of  God  to  the  world.  In  Vedic  literature 
the  universe  is  everywhere  said  to  be  substantially  flowing 
out  of  the  Divine  Essence  itself. 

Somewhere  about  1,000  B.  C.  flourished  Zarathustra, 
the  founder,  or  great  reformer,  of  the  Persian  religion. 
His  teaching  is  modified  Brahminism.  About  all  we 
know  of  him  is  contained  in  the  Zendavesta.  With  him 
there  are  two  eternal  principles,  that  of  good,  Ormuzd, 
and  that  of  evil,  Ahriman.  Originally  man  was  holy, 
but  through  the  wiles  of  Ahriman  he  fell,  and  thus  be- 
came a  wanderer  from  God.  For  all  wrong-doing  the 
wicked  must  make  their  own  atonement.  Prayer  and 
adoration  are  everywhere  enforced,  and  pure  morals  in- 
culcated. Truthfulness  is  especially  enjoined,  and  every 
form  of  deception  condemned  as  most  wicked  and  debas- 
ing. The  Zarathustrans  have  been  said  by  some  to  be 
worshippers  of  fire;  but  this  is  not  true,  for  every  one  of 
his  true  followers  abhor  the  very  name  of  fire-worship- 
pers. It  is  probable  that  in  fire,  cleansing  as  it  does 
everything  it  touches,  they  see  something  truly  symbolic 
of  Ormuzd,  the  Divine  Presence  itself:  Tlipaai  yap  dedv 
vo/jLtZouat  shw.  -■>/>  [The  Persians  say  that  God  is  fire, 
(Herod,  iii.  16)]  but  this  is  no  more  worshipping  fire 
than  the  Catholic  worships  the  crucifix,  when  he  bows 
before  it. 

Buddha  flourished  about  550  B.  C.  He  asserts  that  the 
original  essence  of  all  things  is  one  and  spiritual.  He 
would  have  little  to  do  with  cosmology  or  theology.  His 
aim  was  to  find  a  cure  for  the  woes  of  man.  The  moral 
code  of  Buddha  is  one  of  the  purest  possible.  Its  four 
great  principles  are:  existence  is  to  be  deplored;  all  mis- 
ery results  from  passion,  or  unsatisfied  desire;  passion 
and  desire  should  be  eradicated  ;  Nirvana  should  be  ob- 
tained. Imperfection  must  be  overcome  by  repeated  in- 
carnations, for  the  law  of  Karma  assures  every  one  that 
whatever  he  sows,  he  must  reap.     When  perfection  is  at- 


388  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

tained,  identity  is  lost,  and  Nirvana  gained,  the  soul  being 
merged  in  the  infinite  Self.  As  generally  understood, 
immortality  is  not  taught  in  Buddhism;  but  its  moral  code 
is  one  of  the  noblest,  teaching  patience,  and  compassion 
and  efficient  help  for  all  in  need  of  succor.  So  lofty  are 
its  precepts  that  Buddha  might  well  be  called  the  uni- 
versal friend. 

The  Greek  mind  was  naturally  philosophical.  Their 
early  poets  lived  in  the  company  of  gods  and  goddesses, 
and  were  always  prone  to  discuss  the  origin  of  existence 
and  the  destiny  of  man.  These  and  the  theologians  of 
Aristotle's  time  taught  that  what  is  highest  and  best  in  the 
development  of  the  world,  was  subsequent,  and  not  first, 
in  the  order  of  time;  while  others,  standing  between  the 
poets  and  the  theologians,  placed  the  best  as  first.  Among 
the  poets  Hesiod  says  that  Chaos  was  first  of  all,  then 
wide-extending  Gaea;  and  Acusilaus  tells  us  that  from 
Chaos  sprang  black  Erebus  and  Night;  while  Homer 
makes  Oceanus  the  origin  of  all.  (Horn.  II.  xiv. ,  201,246. ) 

The  highest  conception  of  deity  among  the  Greeks  cul- 
minated in  that  of  Zeus.  He  is  all  eyes,  all  ears,  ever 
guarding,  ever  protecting,  ever  the  object  of  adoration 
and  prayer,  ever  just  to  all  and  partial  to  none. 

Tbales  (640  B.  C.)  the  founder  of  the  Ionic  school, 
taught  that  the  original  source  of  all  things  is  water,  and 
that  the  divine  spirit  is  diffused  throughout  the  whole 
creation.  Nothing  is  dead;  even  the  stone  has  soul 
within  it. 

Anaximander  (611  B.  C.)  calls  the  original  substance 
"the  arche."  This  first  substance  is  undetermined  in 
character,  and  infinite  in  quantity.  He  also  calls  it 
"apeiron."  In  this  infinite,  undetermined  body  or 
apeiron  there  exist  all  power,  all  possibilities, 
whether  of  mind  or  matter;  and  independent  of  it, 
other  causes  cannot  exist;  for,  in  the  words  of  Aristotle, 
Anaximander  declares  this  apeiron  to  be  God.  (Phys.  iii. 
4,  9. )  In  the  eternal  motion  of  this  apeiron  there  arise 
elementary  contraries,  such  as  warm  and  cold,  moist  and 
dry;  and  finally,  by  universal  condensation,  worlds  and 
divinities.  The  earth,  as  well  as  all  forms  of  life,  is  the 
result  of  evolution.     Land   life   was  preceded  by  water 


GOD    AND    THE   WORLD.  389 

life.  As  all  living  existences  have  arisen  by  evolution  out 
of  one  common  substance,  the  infinite  and  undifferen- 
tiated apeiron  (Aris.  Phys.  i.  4,  2),  so  of  necessity  shall 
all  return  to  their  common  origin,  and  lose  their  individual- 
ities, God  being  once  again  alone  in  the  awful  stillness  of 
boundless  space.  As  with  Buddha,  so  with  Anaximander — 
individual  existence  results  from  some  injustice  or  imper- 
fection, and  can  only  be  atoned  for  by  final  extinction. 

Pythagoras  (582  B-  C.)  taught  that  all  nature  moves 
in  cycles.  Forms  perish  only  afterwards  to  reappear.  He 
taught  the  doctrine  of  metempsychosis,  which  he  is  sup- 
posed to  have  learned  from  the  Egyptians,  whom  Herodo- 
tus tells  us  he  had  visited,  (ii.  81,  123.)  Moderation  in 
attire,  frugality  in  diet,  rigorous  self-examination  w7ere 
enjoined  on  all  the  followers  of  Pythagoras;  and  if  animal 
food  were  eaten  at  all,  it  could  be  used  only  sparingly. 

Xenophanes  (569  B.  C.)  taught  that  earth  and  water 
were  the  twro  original  elements.  But  even  these  have 
their  real  being  in  the  universal  Deity,  for  he  declares  God 
to  be  the  one  and  only  true  existence.  (Aris.  Met. 
i.  5,  12.)  "Overall  gods  and  men,"  he  says,  "  there  is 
one  Supreme  Deity,  who  in  form  and  thought  is  in  no 
respect  like  unto  mortals."  No  matter  where  he 
turned  his  gaze,  Xenophanes  saw  in  nature's,  infinite 
variety  one  universal  unity,  the  very  embodiment  of  God 
himself. 

Anaximines  (528  B.C.)  taught  that  the  original  sub- 
stance was  an  aeriform  body.  Out  of  this  all  other  bodies 
have  been  evolved  by  condensation  and  rarif action.  This 
original  substance  was  boundless  and  animated,  and  in 
character  the  highest  and  best.  Our  souls  are  of  the 
nature  of  this  substance,  and  by  it  the  earth  and  the  other 
worlds  are  kept  in  position. 

Heraclitus  (506  B.  C. )  considers  the  original  substance 
to  be  animated  and  divine,  knowing  and  directing  all 
things,  a  fire  self-kindling  and  self-extinguishing.  The 
soul  is  immortal,  and  the  universe  is  the  Deity  dispersed. 
Out  of  this  divine  fire  individualities  come  into  existence 
by  "  going  the  downward  way,"  and  after  a  time  lose 
their  existence,  and  return  to  the  original  and  divine  fire 
by  "  going  the  upward  way."  Thus  do  the  life  and  death 


390  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUI«. 

of  creation  move  forever  in  cycles,  existence  and  non- 
existence being  only  as  the  ebb  and  flow  of  the  tide.  All 
things  are  in  a  perpetual  flux.  The  present  state  of  man 
is  not  the  best:  while  we  live  our  souls  are  dead  and  bur- 
ied within  us;  when  we  die,  our  souls  truly  begin  to  live. 

Empedocles  (500  B.  C.)  taught  that  there  are  four 
original  elements — earth,  water,  air,  and  fire.  These  he 
called  the  roots  of  all  things.  (Aris. :  De  Gen.  i.  1.)  In 
these  original  forms  there  are  two  forces  ever  working. 
Of  these  the  ruling  force  is  Love,  the  divine  mind  itself; 
the  other  is  Hatred.  In  dominion  the  one  of  these  gives 
way  in  turn  to  the  other.  Love  during  some  unguarded 
moment,  or  unsuspicious  of  its  adversary,  finds  itself  in 
conflict  and  surrounded  by  traitors.  It  is  overcome,  and 
Hatred  now  assumes  dominion;  but  ere  long  with  blasted 
ambition,  and  energies  expended,  it  gladly  gives  way  to 
the  only  true  source  of  life,  divine  Love.  Thus  is  the 
world  destroyed  and  again  renewed,  and  these  cycles  con- 
tinue forever.  To  Empedocles  nature  is  a  living  whole. 
Nothing  really  comes  into  being,  nothing  really  loses  its 
being.  Man  is  a  result  of  evolution.  Plants  have  feeling 
and  desire.  In  the  development  of  life  the  vegetable  king- 
dom first  manifested  itself,  then  the  animal.  All  higher 
forms  arise  out  of  lower.  Says  Empedocles:  "I  myself  have 
already  been  boy  and  girl,  plant  and  bird,  and  the  swift- 
gliding  fish  of  the  sea."  The  doctrines  of  this  philosopher 
differ  but  little  from  those  of  Oken,  Lamarck,  and  Darwin. 

Anaxagoras  ( 500  B.  C.  )  believed  in  an  indefinite 
number  of  elements,  and  in  the  divine  mind  as  immanent 
in  the  substance  of  the  universe.  Matter  is  inert ;  mind 
alone  moves,  acts,  and  shapes.  There  is  no  chance,  no 
fate,  all  is  moved  and  guided  by  the  divine  presence.  All 
living  things  have  souls;  even  plants  have  their  joys  and 
sorrows. 

Melissus  (475  B.  C.)  taught  the  unity  of  the  universe, 
and  the  eternal  nature  of  its  substance.  The  original  ele- 
ment is  continuous,  and  neither  matter  nor  mind,  but  the 
common  plasma  out  of  which  all  things  have  been  formed. 

Democritus  (465  B.  C. )  held  that  there  is  in  space  an 
infinite  number  of  atoms.  The  union  of  these,  by  neces- 
sity, brings  all  possible  forms  into  existence.      The  atoms 


GOD   AND   THE   WORLD.  39 1 

as  well  as  their  motions  are  eternal,  and  their  magnitude 
as  well  as  their  weight  varies.  This  difference  forced  some 
elements  downward,  others  upward,  bringing  about  a  ro- 
tary motion,  which  extended  farther  and  farther,  bringing 
together  homogeneous  elements,  and  finally  forming  the 
worlds,  not  as  the  result  of  divine  guidance,  but  of  natural 
necessity. 

Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  who  flourished  in  the  fifth 
century  B.  C,  agrees  with  Anaximines  in  making  an 
aeriform  body  the  original  substance.  As  a  strong  proof 
of  the  oneness  of  creation,  Diogenes  adduced  the  fact  of 
the  assimilation  of  inorganic  matter  by  vegetables,  and  of 
vegetable  matter  by  animals. 

Socrates  (471  B.  C.)  was  the  son  of  Sophroniscus  and 
Phaenarete.  He  received  such  education  as  Athens 
afforded  the  children  of  its  best  citizens.  This  philosopher 
believed  that  creation  is  moved  and  guided  by  the  divine 
presence.  Material  possessions  do  not  really  enrich  man. 
To  desire  nothing  is  truly  divine;  to  desire  the  least  brings 
one  nearest  to  divine  perfection.  The  virtuous  man  is 
always  the  subject  of  divine  guidance,  and  constantly  hears 
the  voice  of  God.  Socrates  was  tried  by  about  five  hun- 
dred judges,  and  was  condemned  to  death  in  the  ytar  400 
B.  C.  by  a  majority  of  more  than  eighty.  He  was  accused 
of  corrupting  the  youth,  and  teaching  a  new  religion.  He 
was  a  great  and  pure  soul,  and  has  had  great  influence  in 
shaping  the  thought  of  the  world. 

Euclid  of  Megara  (435  B.  C.)  held  that  the  good  is 
one,  call  it  by  what  name  we  will,  reason,  intelligence,  or 
God;  and  that  evil  has  no  essential  existence. 

Plato  was  born  427  B.  C,  and  was  highly  educated, 
having  had  among  his  teachers  such  as  Dionysius,  Aristo, 
and  Draco.  He  is  said  to  have  been  present  at  the  trial  of 
Socrates,  of  whom  he  was  a  most  faithful  disciple.  Plato 
taught  that  matter  is  eternal,  and  that  in  the  beginning  it 
was  chaos.  Then  comes  the  Deity,  who  is  perfect  goodness 
and  beauty,  and  works  upon  it,  first  forming  out  of  two 
opposite  elements  a  third  element;  and  of  these  three,  the 
soul  of  the  world,  to  which  he  afterwards  joined  the  body. 
The  Deity,  being  perfect  in  all  his  attributes,  it  follows 
that  the  world  is  the  best  possible.     The  soul  of  man  is 


392  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

similar  in  origin  and  nature  to  that  of  the  world,  and  is 
deathless.  Plato  taught  the  doctrine  of  metempsychosis, 
the  future  punishment  of  the  wicked,  and  the  final  bliss 
of  the  righteous. 

Aristotle  was  born  384  B.  C.  His  paternal  ancestors 
were  all  physicians  back  to  Asclepius.  He  was  twenty 
years  a  student  of  Plato.  So  great  was  his  learning  that 
he  was  sought  after  as  an  instructor  of  princes,  such  as 
Hermias,  Philip,  and  Alexander.  Matter,  he  says,  is  pas- 
sive, unable  to  move  itself.  Motion  implies  a  mover.  In 
the  universe  we  find  that  which  is  perpetually  moved,  and 
that  which  both  moves  and  is  moved.  There  is,  therefore, 
a  third  force — pure  actuality,  absolute  spirit,  God — loved 
by  all,  and  the  divine  life  and  support  of  all  existence. 
There  is  only  one  heaven,  and  this  is  eternal  and  perfect, 
and  God  fills  the  whole.  (De  Coelo,  i.  9,  13;  De  Gen. 
ii.  10,  11.)  The  world  is  not  infinite  but  bounded,  and 
God  acts  upon  it  from  without.  Reason  is  prior  in  exist- 
ence, and  comes  into  the  body  from  without.  In  its 
nature  and  origin  it  is  divine.  (DeGen.  An.  ii.  3,  10,  11.) 
There  is  no  special  creation.  The  world-mind  acts  upon 
matter  according  to  fixed  and  immutable  laws;  and  thus 
by  a  gradual  process  brings  forth  the  various  forms  of  life, 
first  the  lower,  then  the  more  perfect. 

Epicurus  (341  B.  C.)  taught  that  matter  exists  from 
all  eternity.  The  earth  with  the  stars  is  only  one  of  an 
infinite  number  of  worlds.  Man  is  a  result  of  evolution. 
Language  has  been  acquired  after  long  anil  constant  at- 
tempts to  express  sensation  and  desire.  Man's  ideas  of 
right  and  wrong  are  not  innate,  but  an  outgrowth  of 
experience  and  development.  While  we  live,  death  does 
not  come  to  us;  when  we  die,  we  cease  to  be.  Death 
should,  therefore,  be  of  no  concern  to  us   whatever. 

On  the  rise  of  Christianity  man's  mind  was  occupied 
either  in  theological  disputation,  or  in  an  attempt  to  har- 
monize the  thought  of  the  past  with  the  dogmas  and 
principles  of  ecclesiasticism.  Cicero,  the  orator,  died  near 
the  eve  of  this  period  (43  B.  C).  This  writer  affirms 
that  if  thought  may  be  predicated  of  anything,  it  surely 
must  be  of  the  universe  itself. 

Plotinus  (204  A.  D.)  taught  that  God  is  at  once  noth- 


GOD   AND   THE   WORLD.  393 

ing  and  all  things;  everywhere  and  nowhere-  Matter  has 
no  real  existence,  being  only  an  image  of  the  true  ousia. 

Porphyry  (233  A.  D.)  held  that  matter  is  eternal. 
This  writer  was  much  occupied  in  refuting  some  Christian 
teaching.  Ecclesiastics  have  taken  care  that  his  works 
should  be  lost. 

JohnScotus  (805)  held  reason  superior  to  faith;  that 
God  is  the  substance  of  all  things;  that  the  life  of  finite 
beings  is  simply  God  living  in  them;  that  all  created 
things  must  finally  return  into  God,  and  lose  their  indi- 
vidual existence. 

Alfgarabi  (820),  Avicenna  (980),  Averroes  (1126), 
Amalrich  of  Bena  (1140  cir.),  and  David  of  Dinant  (1160 
cir.)  differed  but  little  in  their  teachings,  holding  that 
God  is  identical  with  the  universe,  and  that  the  Deity  is 
the  only  active  intelligence,  from  whom  all  things  eman- 
ate. By  order  of  the  church  council  at  Paris  (1209) 
several  adherents  of  these  men  were  committed  to  the 
flames.     Even  the  bones  of  Amalrich  were  burned. 

Spinoza  (1632)  affirmed  that  nature  is  one  in  essence, 
and  identical  with  God,  who  is  the  only  substance;  that 
the  human  mind  as  far  as  it  knows  anything  truly,  is  a 
part  of  the  divine  intellect.  Eeibnitz  (1646)  taught  that 
God  is  the  substance  of  creation.  Diderot  (1713)  held 
that  matter  is  sentient,  and  that  the  universe  is  God. 
Kant  (1724)  admitted  the  probability  of  the  oneness  of 
the  substance  of  the  universe,  and  the  possibility  that 
matter  itself  is  thinking  being,  the  signsof  whose  thoughts 
we  see  in  its  phenomena-  Eichtenberg  (1742)  believed 
that  matter  and  force  are  identical.  Schelling  (1775) 
called  matter  extinct  mind.  Herbart  (1776)  believed  in  a 
common  substance.  Eammenais  (1782)  held  that  matter 
is  only  God  realized  externally;  Schopenhauer  (1788), 
that  the  universe  is  only  objectified  will,  and  that  man's 
body  is  but  his  will  brought  into  the  sphere  of  cognition. 
Sir  William  Hamilton  (1788)  says:  "When  God  is  said  to 
create,  we  construe  this  as  meaning  that  he  evolves  exist- 
ence out  of  himself."  Eotze  (18 17)  regards  the  Deity  as 
the  universal  monad,  and  the  elements  as  spiritual  exist- 
ences. Bain  (1818)  declares  that  the  arguments  for  two 
substances  have  lost  their  value.     Tyndall   (1820)  and 


394  FOOTPRINTS    OF    A   SOUL. 

Huxley  (1825)  each  alike  hold  to  a  common  and  universal 
substance.  Richter  says:  "The  fundamental  deduction 
necessarily  resulting  from  the  law  of  periodicity  is,  that 
the  various  elements  must  be  aggregations  or  condensa- 
tions of  the  one  and  same  primordial  substance.  (Inor. 
Chem.  251.) 

Man  is  a  product  of  the  living  forces  in  creation,  and 
there  is  nothing  in  him  foreign  to  the  forces  that  brought 
him  forth.  Intellectually  and  morally,  with  all  his  hopes 
and  fears,  his  joys  and  sorrows,  his  design  and  forethought, 
his  adoration  and  praise,  his  artistic  and  inventive  skill, 
his  music  and  harmony,  man  is  but  a  mode  of  the  infinite 
thought,  an  expression  of  the  infinite  Presence,  a  voice  in 
the  wilderness  trying  to  echo  the  voice  of  God.  In  ancient 
days  gold  was  not  so  firmly  enthroned  in  the  temple  of 
man's  heart  as  to-day,  and  there  was  a  deeper  sense  of  God's 
nearness  to  man.  Said  Pliny:  "  Non  possum  dicere  aliud 
tunc  mihi  quam  deos  adfuisse — I  can  only  say  that  I  believe 
God  was  my  support;  "  and  Cyrus  affirms  that  God  took 
care  of  him,  and  revealed  the  things  that  were  to  occur. 
(Herod,  i.  209.)  Perhaps  it  was  this  deeper  sense  of 
God's  nearness  to  man  that  gave  rise  in  ancient  days  to 
belief  in  the  possibility  of  Divine  conception,  and  the 
many  stories  relating  thereto.  Homer  (II.  xvi.  150,  522, 
568),  Aristotle  (Hist.  An.  vii.  4,  13),  Aeschylus  (Suppl. 
18),  Aristophanes  (Aves.  695),  Herodotus  and  others,  all 
give  evidence  of  the  prevalence  of  this  belief  :  $aai  .  .  rdv 
Ozdv  abruv  <foirav  re  £9  rov  vrfiv  xai  apizausadai  in}  r9jg  zA(vn$  .  . 
xai  yap  dvj  iy.et.6i  xoifiarat  .  .  yuvrj  .  .  dvdpaiv  obdapmv  kg  opiXirjv 
<potxav   .   .   i]  npopavrtg  rod  deov,  inedv  yivtjTat. 

6  dh  ''Ancg  ourog  yivzrai  p.6ff-/og  ix  /Sooc  ^tj?  ouxiri  oItj  re 
yiverai  kg  yaaripa  aXXov  ftaXXetrOai  yovov  .  .  Xiyouat  <riXag  inl  tvjv 
jSoov   ix  too  oupavou   xariGyztv^  xa\  Ix  tootoo  ztxretv   rov  " ' Atziv. — 

They  say  that  God  himself  comes  to  the  temple,  and  re- 
poses on  the  couch ,  where  also  sleeps  a  woman  who  has  never 
had  sexual  converse  with  man,  and  that  when  the  child  is 
born  it  is  regarded  as  the  chief  priestess.  .  .  .  This  Apis  is 
a  calf  from  a  cow  which  could  not  possibly  have  conceived 
in  the  natural  manner.  They  say  that  a  bright  beam  of 
light  from  heaven  enters  into  the  cow,  and  that  from  this 
she  conceives  the  Apis.    (Herod,  i.  182;  iii.  28.) 


GOD   AND   THK   WORLD.  395 

We  may  have  no  faith  in  divine  conceptions,  in  special 
interposition  of  Providence,  in  the  miracles  by  which  the 
different  systems  of  faith  attempt  to  establish  their  divine 
or  exclusive  authority  ;  but  we  may  not  doubt  the  truth 
of  Cicero's  words,  that  "  the  world  is  the  common  habita- 
tion of  men  and  gods. ' '  Even  the  atom  is  a  domicile  of 
Deity.  Every  point  of  force  may  be  a  center  of  divine 
consciousness,  and  the  universe  itself  the  objectified,  infinite 
Presence.  As  a  diseased  blood-cell  in  man  loses  its  vitality 
and  gives  way  to  a  healthful  one,  so  globe  after  globe,  in 
the  glorious  body  of  God,  dies  only  to  become  more  fitted 
for  its  own  activity.  All  parts  of  the  universal  body,  as  in 
our  own,  are  subject  to  change  ;  but  as  we  preserve  our 
personality  from  year  to  year,  so  the  universe,  the  divine 
personality,  changeth  not,  but  abideth  the  same  forever 
and  ever.  The  heavenly  bodies  do  not  move  without  nor 
around,  but  really  within  the  body  of  nature,  as  the  atom 
or  physiological  unit  moves  within  the  organism,  or  the 
atom  of  silicon  within  the  block  of  granite.  Nature  is  a 
solid  living  whole.  Its  parts  are  subject  to  change,  we 
among  them  ;  but  the  body  itself  remains  unchanged  and 
immovable  from  age  to  age.  In  the  universe  there  is  really 
no  hap,  no  chance,  no  miracles.  However  hidden  the 
relation,  there  is  in  every  manifested  force  an  expression 
of  the  one  universal  and  immutable  cause.  Acting 
upon  the  elementary,  original  essence,  and  upon  being 
in  each  and  every  stage  of  development,  this  divine, 
immanent,  immutable,  and  universal  cause  brings  forth 
and  sustains  every  material  and  mental  existence;  and  in- 
dependent of  it  such  existences  could  neither  continue 
to  be,  nor  be  conceived. 

In  reading  the  pages  of  the  earth's  biography,  we  find 
faith  in  divine  guidance  standing  forth  more  clearly  than 
any  other  record.  This  is  reasonable  and  natural.  The 
divine  Being  acting  in  all  things,  and  revealing  himself 
in  the  harmonious  operations  of  the  universal  whole,  acts 
upon  the  inner  being  of  man.  Listening  to  his  voice, 
recognizing  the  Father's  touch,  and  yielding  to  the  divine 
pressure  man  becomes  a  subject  of  divine  guidance.  We 
must  listen  that  we  may  hear,  and  yield  that  we  may  be 
guided.     He  that  is  void  of  passion,  without  beginning  or 


396  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

end  of  days,  has  the  universe  for  his  only-begotten,  and 
every  atom  in  it  alike  dear  to  him.  "Being  is  unbegotten, 
indestructible, whole,  eternally  one,  immovable,  and  infin- 
ite. With  it  there  is  no  was  nor  shall  be;  the  whole  is 
forever  now,  one  and  continuous. "  ( Parmenides. )  Our 
work  as  that  of  an  atom  in  our  own  body  is  to  adjust  our- 
selves to  the  requirements  of  the  divine  whole,  of  which 
we  are  a  part.  It  is  our  privilege  to  become  one  with  the 
eternal. 

In  conclusion,  with  reference  to  the  great  souls  of  the 
past,  we  would  use  the  eulogy  passed  on  Spinoza  by 
Schleiermacher:  "Offer  reverentially  with  me  a  lock  to 
the  manes  of  the  holy.  They  were  filled  with  the  lofty 
world  spirit;  the  infinite  was  their  beginning  and  end;  the 
universe  their  only  and  eternal  love.  In  holy  innocence 
and  deep  humility  they  saw  themselves  in  the  mirror  of  the 
eternal  world,  and  saw  how  they,  too,  were  its  most  lovely 
mirror;  full  of  religion  were  they,  and  full  of  holy  spirit, 
and  hence  they  stand  there  alone  and  unrivalled." 

Set  it  arbores  quae  alteri  seculo  prosient. — Cicero. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

REASON   PREVAILS. 

Badem  ratio,  cum  est  in  hominis  mente  confirmata  et  confecta,  test 
■est.  (Cicero.) 

And  that  same  reason  when  once  it  is  confirmed  and  perfect- 
ed in  man's  mind,  becomes  law — 

I T  soon  became  evident  that  Merton's  controversy  with 
the  Roman  missioner  widened  the  breach  already  exist- 
ing between  him  and  his  diocesan.  Merton's  nature 
appeared  to  be  undergoing  as  it  were  the  throes  of  parturi- 
tion, in  its  efforts  to  burst  the  barriers  which  confined  him, 
and  bring  him  forth  to  the  light. 

While  in  this  mental  agony,  Merton  received  a  visit 
from  Reason.  "I  am  sorry' '  said  Reason,  '  'to  find  you  in  so 
great  distress  of  mind;  but  pain  and  pleasure  are  very  near 
related.  The  highest  enjoyment  is  ever  preceded  by  the 
acutest  pain.  The  mother  drains  her  cup  of  pain,  before 
she  tastes  her  cup  of  bliss.  To  him  who  is  born  and  edu- 
cated in  superstition,  it  must  be  said  to-day,  as  of  old,  'Ye 
must  be  born  again. '  You  must  break  through  the  barriers 
which  confine  you,  and  drop  the  load  of  superstition  which 
crushes  you.  Either  enjoy  the  benefits  of  a  child  of  Super- 
stition, by  a  faithful  performance  of  those  duties  which  the 
dark  monster  imposes  on  you,  or  as  a  true  child  of  Nature, 
follow  the  dictates  of  universal  reason,  leaving  the  conse- 
quence with  God.  This  is  undoubtedly  hard  for  you  to 
do.  In  the  occupation  you  follow,  you  are  a  member  of  a 
powerful  corporation  actuated  by  common  interests;  and 
while  you  are  true  to  those  interests,  you  can  not  fail  to 
get  bread  to  eat  and  clothing  to  wear.  On  the  other  hand, 
should  you  refuse  to  uphold  those  interests,  that  'Corporate 
Animal'  will  cut  you  off  from  its  fleshly  self, and  if  possible 
trample  you  under  its  cloven  feet,  and  leave  your  mangled 
remains  as  food  for  the  vultures.     But  what  then?     Does 

397 


398  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

life  consist  of  food  and  raiment  ?  Is  this  dark  and  painful 
existence  the  end  of  all  activity  ?  The  highest  duty  of  a 
true  man,  is  first  of  all  to  be  true  to  himself  —  to  his  own 
convictions  of  right,  as  impressed  on  him  by  the  Infinite 
Mind  urging  him  onward  to  a  more  exalted  life.  You  must 
choose  between  reason  and  superstition:  'you  can  not 
serve  God  and  mammon.'  Let  your  decision  be  deter- 
mined by  motives  of  personal  interests,  and  be  a  follower  of 
mammon;  or  let  your  decision  be  determined  by  your  con- 
sciousness of  duty,  and  be  a  follower  of  righteousness  and 
God.  You  are  not  the  one  to  enjoy  deceiving  or  being  de- 
ceived. A  short  time  ago,  you  remember,  you  were  visited 
by  three  clergymen  who,  for  more  than  an  hour,  argued  in 
favor  of  the  deity  of  Christ,  and  the  literal  inspiration  of 
the  Scriptures,  and  asserted  the  doctrine  that  the  man  who 
rejects  the  deity  of  Christ,  must  be  eternally  damned.  You 
remember  it  was  but  a  few  days  after  this,  when  one  of 
these  same  clergymen  wrote  you  a  letter,  confessing  his 
disbelief  in  the  deity  of  Christ,  and  in  the  exclusive  inspira- 
tion of  the  Scriptures,  at  the  same  time  praying  you  to  keep 
to  yourself  this  confession,  on  the  ground  that  he  would 
suffer,  should  it  become  known.  There  are  very  many 
thousands  who  would  readily  acknowlege  their  disbelief, 
were  they  not  afraid  of  the  consequences;  but  I  say  unto 
you  again,  '  Ye  can  not  serve  two  masters, —  ye  can  not 
serve  God  and  mammon.'  I  know  there  is  a  superstitious 
feeling  which  makes  you  hesitate  to  leave  the  church  in 
which  you  were  born;  but  the  church  should  receive  the 
obedience  of  the  reasonable  man,  not  in  proportion  to  its 
assumptions  and  claims,  but  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of 
unquestionable  truth  it  possesses.  Now,  that  which  the 
church  declares  is  the  most  exact  symbol  of  its  faith,  is  the 
Nicene  Creed;  and  it  is  to  this  creed  that  it  professes 
authority  for  demanding  the  obedience  of  the  whole  world. 


REASON    PREVAILS.  399 

Now,  it  is  evident  that  the  reasonableness  of  this  demand, 
must  depend  on  two  things: 

"1:  On  the  reasonableness  of  the  creed  it  would  im- 
pose ; 

"2:  On  the  power  of  the  church  to  discriminate  be- 
tween truth  and  error. 

"  When  we  come  to  the  examination  of  the  Nicene  Creed, 
the  great  symbol  of  orthodoxy,  we  find  that  only  the  first 
clause,  which  refers  exclusively  to  God  the  Father,  has  ever 
received,  or  does  receive,  universal  assent.  It  will  be  ad- 
mitted that  if  the  balance  of  this  creed  be  believed  at  all,  it 
must  be  by  Christians  exclusively.  A  slight  examination  of 
the  origin  and  growth  of  this  creed,  will  better  enable  us  to 
understand  its  value  as  a  symbol  of  faith 

"The  original  Nicene  Creed  was  formulated  at  Nice,  A.  D. 
325,  by  three  hundred  and  eighteen  bishops  convened  at  the 
summons  of  the  Emperor  Constantine.  In  this  council 
there  were  not  less  than  three  antagonistic  parties,  —  the 
homoousian,  the  homoiousian,  and  the  Origenian.  The  ho- 
moousian,  which  to-day  represents  the  orthodox  party,  in 
this  council  was  in  a  decided  minority  The  majority  of  the 
bishops  headed  by  Eusebius  of  Caesarea,  followed  the  lead 
of  Origen  who  represented  the  liberal  party,  while  not  a  few 
were  homoiousians,  or  followers  of  Arius,  who  represented 
the  more  radical  party.  The  result  of  this  council  was  a 
victory  for  the  homoousians.  This  victory  was  brought 
about  through  the  influence  of  the  presiding  emperor,  the 
oratory  of  Athanasius,  and  the  fear,  on  the  part  of  many,  of 
deposition,  or  of  giving  offence  to  the  emperor.  Only  three 
were  brave  enough  to  refuse  subscription  to  this  creed  of 
Nice, — Arius,  Theonas,  and  Secundus;  and  these,  for  their  re- 
fusal, were  exiled  into  Illyria. 

"  Thus  the  Nicene  Creed  is  a  child  of  force,  political  in- 
fluence, and  oratorical  persuasion. 


400  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A  SOUL. 

"But  even  this  creed  was  not  unreasonable  enough  to  sat- 
isfy the  ghostly  minds  of  the  one  hundred  and  fifty  bishops 
who  formed  the  Second  General  Council  of  Constantinople. 
This  council,  which  convened  A.  D.  381,  both  added  to,  and 
took  from,  the  Nicene  Creed.  The  words,  '  God  of  God,' 
they  took  out  of  the  Creed;  and  they  added  the  formula 
consisting  of  the  words,  '  the  Lord  and  Giver  of  Life,  Who 
proceedeth  from  the  Father,  Who  with  the  Father  and  the 
Son  together  is  worshipped  and  glorified.'  These  words 
were  added  to  show  the  equality  of  the  Holy  Ghost  with 
the  Father  and  the  Son. 

"  But  not  even  this  creed  of  Constantinople  was  so  re- 
pugnant to  reason  as  that  which  you  confess,  and  call  the 
Nicene  Creed.  For  neither  the  Nicene  nor  the  Constantino- 
politan  asserted  the  procession  of  the  Holy  Ghost  from  the 
Son.  This  second  addition  to  the  genuine  Nicene  Creed  is 
uncertain  in  origin;  but  its  first  undisputed  appearance  is  in 
the  creed  of  the  Third  Council  of  Toledo,  A.  D.  589.  It  is 
this  addition  to  the  Creed  of  Constantinople,  thus  made  by 
a  provincial  and  obscure  council,  which  caused,  in  1054,  the 
great  schism  between  the  Eastern  and  Western  Churches, 
and  fills  them  to-day  with  mutual  bitterness;  and  it  is 
through  the  confession  of  this  addition,  called  the  '  filioque 
clause,'  that  the  Eastern  Church  charges  the  Western  with 
heresy.  So  the  creed  you  confess  should  be  called  the  creed 
of  the  ghostly  fathers  who  assembled  at  Toledo,  A.  D.  589. 
It  is  certainly  not  the  genuine  Nicene  Creed;  it  certainly  is 
not  the  genuine  Constantinopolitan;  and  certainly  its  first 
undisputed  confession  was  made  by  the  Council  of  Toledo 
in  589.  Is  it  possible  that  such  a  creed  as  you  confess, 
should  be  stamped  with  the  seal  of  eternal  truth  !  The  fact 
that  it  was  the  result  of  long-continued  and  most  bitter 
strife,  beginning  in  the  very  earliest  ages  of  the  church,  and 
ending  as  we  have  said  above,  is  most  conclusive  proof  of 


REASON    PREVAILS.  401 

the  lack  in  those  days  of  Christian  unanimity;  and  the  fact 
of  the  existence  to-day  of  Unitarianism,  and  other  unortho- 
dox faiths,  is  the  most  conclusive  proof  of  existing  lack  of 
Christian  unanimity.  So  then,  the  creed  which  you  profess, 
with  the  exception  of  that  part  which  refers  exclusively  to 
God  the  Father,  not  only  does  not  receive  the  assent  of 
humanity  in  general,  but  not  even  that  of  the  general 
Christian  church.  As  the  controversies  through  which  this 
creed  has  passed,  is  conclusive  proof  that,  at  its  different 
stages,  it  was  not  in  general  regarded  as  a  reasonable  docu- 
ment; so  is  its  present  contents  such  as  no  reasonable  man 
can  give  hearty  assent  to. 

"  The  church  being  thus  unable  to  expect  the  obedience 
of  the  reasonable  man,  on  the  ground  of  the  confession  of 
faith  which  she  offers  him,  has  she  the  right  to  expect  his  obe- 
dience, on  the  ground  of  her  reliability  as  a  judge  of  the 
truth  ?  That  she  has  not  this  right,  is  sufficiently  evident 
from  the  contradictory  judgments  of  the  different  commun- 
ions which  form  the  Christian  church.  The  Eastern  Church 
charges  the  Western  with  the  guilt  of  schism  and  heresy, 
and  the  Western  Church  charges  the  Eastern  with  the  guilt 
•of  schism.  The  Roman  Church  charges  the  whole  Angli- 
can Communion  with  the  guilt  of  schism,  and  denies  the 
validity  of  its  orders;  and  the  Anglican  Communion  charges 
the  Roman  Church  with  corruption  and  heresy,  and  affirms 
that  it  alone  is  the  cause  of  the  disrupted  and  schismatic 
state  of  the  Christian  church  in  general;  and  it  also  charges 
the  various  Protestant  bodies  with  schism,  or  heresy,  or 
both.  Thus  there  is  not  a  Christian  body  whose  judgment 
is  unreservedly  received  by  another. 

"  The  treatment  the  church  has  given  the  great  scientists 
of  the  world,  is  well  known  to  every  reader  of  history.  It 
was  the  church  which  could  accuse  of  magic  and  heresy  the 
most  learned  man  of  the   Middle  Ages,  Roger  Bacon,  and 


402  FOOTPRINTS   OP   A   SOUL. 

keep  him  shut  up  within  prison  walls,  for  the  most  of  his 
life.  It  was  the  church  which,  in  1615,  could  summon 
Galileo  before  the  bar  of  the  Inquisition,  and  force  him  to 
renounce  truths  that  are  now  generally  accepted  ;  it  was  the 
church  which,  in  1633,  could  cite  the  same  philosopher,  now 
aged  and  infirm,  before  the  same  cruel  Inquisition,  and 
through  its  agency,  utter  the  following  decree  : 

"  '  By  the  desire  of  His  Holiness  and  of  the  most  eminent 
Lord  Cardinals  of  this  supreme  and  universal  Inquisition, 
the  two  propositions  of  the  stability  of  the  sun  and  the 
motion  of  the  earth,  were  qualified  by  the  theological  quali- 
fiers as  follows  : 

"'1:  The  proposition  that  the  sun  is  the  centre  of  the 
world,  and  immoveable  from  its  place,  is  absurd,  philosoph- 
ically false,  and  formally  heretical  ;  because  it  is  expressly 
contrary  to  Holy  Scripture. 

" '  2:  The  proposition  that  the  earth  is  not  the  centre  of 
the  world,  nor  immoveable  ;  but  that  it  moves  and  also  with 
a  diurnal  motion,  is  absurd,  philosophically  false,  and  the- 
ologically considered,  at  least  erroneous. 

"  i  We  decree  that  the  book  of  the  dialogues  of  Galileo 
Galilei,  be  prohibited  by  edict;  we  condemn  you  to  the  prison 
of  this  office  during  our  pleasure  ;  we  order  you  for  the  next 
three  years  to  recite  once  a  week  the  seven  penitential 
psalms.' 

"  And  it  was  the  church  which,  then  and  there,  could 
wring  from  the  old  and  withered  philosopher  the  following 
confession,  though  it  perjured  him  in  the  eyes  of  the  world: 

"'With  a  sincere  heart  and  unfeigned  faith  I  abjure, 
curse,  and  detest,  the  said  errors  and  heresies  (viz.,  that  the 
earth  moves,  etc.)  I  swear  that  I  will  never  in  future  say  or 
assert  anything  verbally,  or  in  writing,  which  may  give  rise 
to  a  similar  suspicion  against  me. 


REASON   PREVAILS.  403 

"  '  I  Galileo  Galilei  have  abjured  as  above  with  my  own 
hand.* 

"  It  was  the  church  which,  on  the  conclusion  of  this  trial, 
could  conduct  the  terrified  old  man  from  his  place  of  judg- 
ment to  the  prison  of  the  Inquisition,  and  keep  him  virtually 
a  prisoner  the  remainder  of  his  life.  It  was  the  church 
which  could  bury  the  broken-hearted  philosopher's  body  in 
an  obscure  corner  of  the  grave-yard,  and  refuse  his  friends 
permission  to  erect  a  monument  over  his  grave. 

"It  is  safe  to  say  that  with  the  known  facts  of  history  before 
us,  no  reasonable  man  can  admit  that  the  church  should  be 
obeyed,  on  the  plea  of  the  reliability  of  her  judgment ;  for 
these  facts  unquestionably  prove  that  no  judge  ever  sat  on  a 
bench,  whose  judgment  was  more  fraught  with  error  than  the 
judgment  of  the  Christian  church  has  been. 

"  I  say  again,  '  Ye  can  not  serve  two  masters,  ye  can  not 
serve  God  and  mammon.'  If  you  would  be  a  follower  of 
righteousness  and  God,  you  must  break  through  the  barriers 
which  confine  you,  and  speak  the  thoughts  of  your  soul,  as 
impressed  on  you  by  the  God  of  nature,  revealing  himself 
in  every  movement  of  the  cosmos.  He  who  would  be  true  to 
God  and  man,  must  first  of  all  be  true  to  himself.  I  must 
leave  you  now.  My  parting  word  is  :  do  what  in  your  soul 
you  believe  to  be  right,  and  leave  the  consequences  with 
God." 

"  One  question,  O  Reason,  before  you  leave.  If  during  the 
last  eighteen  years  you  have  had  such  influence  over  me, 
why  during  the  last  eighteen  hundred  have  you  not  had 
more  over  the  church  ?  Surely  you  are  not  unknown  to  the 
different  parts  of  it!  " 

"  It  is  true  I  am  not  an  entire  stranger  to  the  church  ; 
but  my  presence  in  it  is  almost  as  unwilling,  as  unwillingly 
received.  At  times  it  apparently  receives  my  instructions  ; 
but  it  immediately  proceeds  to  distort  and  change  them  to 


404  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL. 

suit  its  own  desires  and  ends.  In  a  few  instances  I  have 
found  ready  minds,  and  willing  hearts,  and  the  seed  I  have 
sown  in  them,  have  brought  forth  abundantly  ;  but  even  in 
such  cases  they  are  generally  cut  down  by  the  scythes  of  the 
bishops,  before  they  have  yielded  a  tithe  of  what  they  might 
have  produced.  Ever  since  the  order  of  priests  and  medi- 
cine-men has  been  established,  you  can  with  as  much  safety 
touch  the  scorpion's  tail,  as  the  interests  of  a  bishop.  They 
are  so  deeply  pledged,  and  their  interests  are  so  wholly  de- 
pendent on  the  dogmas  they  inculcate,  that  they  strive  as 
zealously  to  secure  their  safety  as  the  heathen  to  secure  the 
safety  of  his  penates,  or  the  drowning  man  to  get  air  to 
breathe.  Dogma  and  Superstition  are  the  sovereign  eccle- 
siastical powers  ;  Reason  is  offered  in  the  church  only  a 
subordinate  position,  and  such  I  can  not  accept.  Bacon 
expresses  a  partial  truth  when  he  says  :  '  If  I  proceed  to 
treat  of  theology,  I  shall  step  out  of  the  bark  of  human 
reason,  and  enter  the  ship  of  the  church.  Neither  will  the 
stars  of  philosophy,  which  have  hitherto  so  nobly  shone  on 
us,  any  longer  give  us  their  light.'  There  is  a  fallacy,  how- 
ever, in  this  saying  of  Bacon  ;  for  however  dark  the  heavens 
over  the  head  of  the  average  theologian,  theology  can  only 
flourish  when  the  stars  of  philosophy  shine  most  brightly  on 
it.'  Theology  is  without  prejudice  or  sordid  interest,  theo- 
logians are  prompted  by  both. 

"I  have  answered  your  question.  You  are  an  apt  pupil, 
yet  I  must  leave  you.  As  Kreeshna  said  to  Arjoon,  so  say 
I  unto  thee:  '  Let  the  motive  be  in  the  deed,  and  not  in  the 
event.  Be  free  from  duplicity,  and  stand  firm  in  the  path 
of  truth.  Be  not  one  whose  motive  for  action  is  the  hope 
of  reward.  Let  not  thy  life  be  spent  in  inactivity.  Per- 
form thy  duty,  and  abandon  all  thoughts  of  the  conse- 
quence.' " 

"  With  all  the  pain  you  have  given  me,  O  Reason,  I  can 


REASON   PREVAILS.  405 

not  be  other  than  thankful  to  you  for  what  you  have  done 
for  me.  You  have  opened  my  eyes  to  see  in  a  finer  light 
the  God  of  love;  and  my  ears  to  hear  more  harmonious  and 
heavenly  sounds  than  the  dissonant  clangors  of  supersti- 
tion. I  intend  to  follow  your  advice:  I  will  break  through 
the  barriers  which  confine  me,  and  drop  the  load  of  super- 
stition which  crushes  me,  and  leave  the  consequences  with 
my  God." 

Notwithstanding  the  firmness  of  his  resolution,  Mer- 
ton's  soul  was  so  heavy,  and  his  mind  so  troubled  at  the 
thought  of  the  many  evils  which  he  would  have  to  un- 
dergo, resulting  from  ecclesiastical  action,  that  he  was 
driven  to  seek  comfort  from  the  Fountain  of  strength,  and 
thus  to  address  the  Father  and  Savior  of  all: 

"Thee,  thou  Universal  Spirit,  will  I  adore.  Thou  only 
art  holy,  and  from  Thee  alone,  as  from  a  bottomless  and 
boundless  ocean,  does  eternal  truth  forever  flow.  Oh,  as 
that  stream  of  virtue  flows  freely  from  thy  adorable  Self, 
may  I  drink  forever;  and  as  I  drink,  may  my  desire  for 
Thee  forever  increase.  O  Thou  unapproachable  and  most 
glorious  Deity,  transcendently  holy  and  good, who  changest 
not,  who  fillest  the  boundless  depths  of  space,  and  movest 
the  whole  with  thy  immanent  Spirit, to  whom  the  whole  and 
every  part  are  dear;  Thou  who  art  well  pleased  with  right- 
eousness, and  seekest  to  restore  the  erring, — move,  O 
righteous  Being,  the  tremulous  soul  of  man,  with  thy  pure 
breath  of  life.  Thou  who  art  decked  with  majesty,  whose 
diadem  is  the  boundless  universe,  show  thy  glory  to  every 
longing  eye;  give  quiet  to  the  troubled  spirit,  and  comfort 
i.o  the  broken-hearted;  and  whether  from  the  Red-man's 
wigwam  or  Parsee  fire,  from  Indian  temple  or  Moham- 
medan shrine,  from  the  disciples  of  Confucius  or  the  fol- 
lowers of  Jesus, — O  hear  the  cry  of  him  who  calls  for  light 
and  truth. 


406  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

"Pass  me  not  by,  O  my  God.  As  Thou  art  Father  of  the 
whole,  and  all  are  dear  to  Thee,  so  let  me  be  thy  child.  O 
my  God,  I  look  to  Thee,  I  trust  in  Thee.  Strengthen  my 
mind,  purify  my  heart,  sanctify  my  soul,  and  make  me  able 
to  feel  thy  influence,  and  ready  to  obey  thy  voice;  and  let 
me  live  in  Thee,  that  when  my  life  thus  spent  is  over,  I 
still  may  rest  in  hope. ' ' 

On  the  Death  of  Merton's  Little  Son: 

A  ray  of  light  coming  out  of  the  gloom, 
A  bud  of  life  springing  out  of  the  tomb, 
We  saw  thee,  though  but  for  a  day ; 
A  spark  of  fire  falling  down  from  above, 
A  burst  of  joy  from  the  Ocean  of  Love, 
Appearing,  it  passes  away. 

A  garden  of  flowers  which  bloom  all  the  year, 

And  trees  of  sweet  fragrance  which  give  the  soul  cheer, 

We  loved  thee, and  found  in  thee  rest; 

A  wandering  star  sent  forth  by  His  might, 

A  world  all  arranged  out  of  chaos  and  night, 

Shone  brightly,  then  died  in  the  west. 

The  darkness  of  death  which  has  fallen  on  thee, 
Shall  hide  thee  from  perils  most  painful  to  me, — 
The  heart  finds  peace  in  the  tomb; 
Where  the  body  of  Sunshine,  thy  mother,  finds  rest, 
There,  deep  in  the  darkness,  thou'rt  near  to  the  breast 
Whose  spirit  shall  lighten  the  gloom. 

A  gift  from  heaven,  and  my  heart's  first  delight, 
An  image  of  God,  though  effaced  in  a  night, 
My  child,  thou  shalt  never  grow  old; 
The  eye  of  the  Father  shall  show  thee  the  way, 
The  love  of  Jehovah  may  bring  thee  some  day, 
To  meet  me,  a  lamb  of  the  fold. 

(H.  T.  B.) 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

THE   BARRIERS   ARE    BROKEN. 
JDeus  ipse  faces  animumque  ministrat — 
God  himself  will  give  us  light  and  courage. 

(  Vergil:  Aen.v.  640.) 
Ich  thue  recht  und  scheue  keinen  Feind. 
Wer gar  zu  viel  bedenkt,  zvird  ivenig  leisten — 
I  do  right,  and  fear  no  enemy. 
Who  hesitates  too  long,  will  accomplish  little.     [Schiller.) 

TV/I  ERTON  greatly  loved  the  forms  and  ceremonies  of  his 
church.  They  were,  as  he  believed,  of  much  educa- 
tional value,  apart  from  their  worth  in  developing  religious 
knowledge,  and  devotional  strength.  But  as  much  good  is 
frequently  found  in  connection  with  far  more  abundant 
evil;  so  in  the  case  of  good  resulting  from  Merton's  ad- 
herence to  the  creed  of  his  church, — it  was  more  than 
neutralized  by  the  accompanying  evils. 

Matters  incapable  of  proof,  were  represented  as  certain ; 
statements  evidently  of  human  origin,  were  asserted  to  be 
divine;  rational  and  beautiful  sayings  were  found  sparsely 
scattered  among  assertions  absurd  and  nature-contradict- 
ing. The  links  of  his  creed  Merton  knew  were,  for  the 
most  part,  of  a  very  frangible  material,  and  welded  to- 
gether by  superstitious  hands,  in  days  when  Darkness 
ruled.  Here  and  there  he  found  a  link  of  fine  material  and 
great  strength;  but  Merton  was  sure  the  chain  of  his  creed 
was  unutterably  weak. 

It  was  in  those  days  that  Merton  received  the  follow- 
ing letter  from  his  bishop: 

"My  dear  Dr.  Merton:  I  feel  very  thankful  to  you 
for  sending  me  back  to  my  books  again,  as  I  have  been 
absent  from  them  for  many  years;  but  feeling  that  it  is 

the  deeply  felt  conviction  of  the  very  large  majority  of 

407 


403  FOOTPRINTS  OP  A  SOUL. 

all  Christian  people  that  the  Christian  religion  is  supernatu- 
ral in  origin  and  life,  as  no  other  religion  ever  was,  or  is  to 
be,  except  the  Patriarchal,  and  the  Jewish,  which  it  has  suc- 
ceeded and  absorbed,  I  am  pained  that  you  have  allowed 
yourself  to  speak  of  the  Christian  miracles  so  slightingly,  or 
to  press  so  unduly  the  natural  as  against  the  supernatural. 
And  Bibliolatry  has  so  far  forgotten  the  genesis  and  history 
of  The  Book  that  in  reminding  men  of  their  forgetfulness, 
and  giving  corrections  to  their  errors,  you  have  allowed 
yourself  to  go  to  the  other  extreme  of  exaggerating  the  un- 
certainties connected  with  it.  Natural  science  does  not  in- 
clude all  science.  Do  not  uphold  scientists  in  their  narrow- 
ness. For  instance,  Huxley  and  Tyndall  are  always  narrow; 
Darwin  never. 

"  You  are  in  danger  of  injuring  souls  in  your  intellectual 
work — in  weakening  their  faith  (justly  and  reasonably 
founded  as  the  vast  majority  of  Church  people  are  con- 
vinced it  is)  in  the  Divinity  of  the  Blessed  Master,  and  in  the 
special  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Scriptures. 

"  May  I  lovingly  request  you  to  be  on  your  guard.  In- 
tellectually restrain  yourself  from  making  statements  which 
may  weaken  the  faith  of  listening  ears.  And  for  the  sake 
of  the  Blessed  Master  and  his  cause  in  His  Church,  and  the 
hearts  of  the  souls  connected  with  your  charge,  give  heed  to 
the  building  them  up  in  the  faith,  rather  than  explicitly  to 
dissecting  and  analyzing  and  destroying  by  reason  of  exag- 
gerated truths. 

"  In  your  utterances  from  the  pulpit,  in  all  thanks  for 
earnestness  and  faithfulness,  I  ask  you  to  avoid  those  things 
that  may  give  hurt  to  faithful  souls  of  plain  Church  views. 

"  May  God  bless  you  in  all  the  good  you  are  doing,  and 
overrule  by  His  Holy  Spirit's  grace  what  error  you  are 
allowing  yourself  to  commit,  is  the  prayer 

Of  your  loving  bishop, 

W.  V.  DUMMKOPF." 


THE   BARRIERS   ARE   BROKEN.  409 

What  could  Merton  reply  to  a  man  who  had  acknowl- 
edged that  he  had  been  many  years  away  from  his  books? 
who  could  show  his  holiness  and  sanctity  rather  by  the  use, 
in  his  letters,  of  an  archaic  language,  and  a  foolish  display 
of  capital  letters,  than  by  earnestly  seeking  after  and  dis- 
covering the  real  truth  of  the  Infinite  God,  and  teaching  it 
to  the  deluded  souls  of  his  bishopric?  What  could  he  reply 
to  a  man  who  had  asserted  the  broadness  of  Darwin,  and 
the  narrowness  of  Huxley?  "Darwin,"  said  he,  "is  never 
narrow. ' '  True  he  was  not ;  but  Darwin ,  unlike  the  bishop, 
was  wide  enough  to  see  the  greatness  and  broadness  of 
Huxley.  No  man  was  ever  more  admired  by  another  than 
Huxley  was  by  Darwin.  In  a  letter  to  Huxley,  Sept.  30th, 
187 1,  Darwin  even  quoted  approvingly  what  he  had  heard 
Hooker  say  of  Huxley:  "When  I  read  Huxley,  I  feel 
quite  infantile  in  intellect."  "Darwin  is  never  narrow," 
said  the  bishop.  Very  true;  but  it  was  Darwin  who  said, 
in  1876:  "By  such  reflections  as  these,  I  gradually  came 
to  disbelieve  in  Christianity  as  a  divine  revelation.  This 
disbelief  crept  over  me  at  a  very  slow  rate,  but  was  at  last 
complete. ' '  "Darwin;  "said  the  bishop,  "is  never  narrow. ' ' 
Very  true;  but  it  was  Darwin  who  wrote  to  Lyell,  "I  con- 
ceive you  might  crush  a  leaden-headed  old  Don,  as  a  Don, 
with  more  safet}^,  than  touch  the  finger  of  that  Corporate 
Animal,  the  Clergy."  "Darwin,"  said  the  bishop,  "is 
never  narrow. "  Very  true;  but  it  was  Darwin  who  wrote 
to  Spencer,  "Every  one  with  eyes  to  see  and  ears  to  hear, 
ought  to  bow  their  knees  to  you,  and  I  for  one  do."  And 
yet  this  same  Spencer  to  whom  Darwin  thus  did  homage, 
has  done  more  to  tear  to  fragments  the  gigantic  fabric  of 
superstition  in  which  the  bishop  worships,  than  any  living 
man.  The  bishop,  it  must  be  admitted,  called  a  very 
damaging  witness  in  the  person  of  Charles  Darwin;  al- 
though he  was  one  of  the  most  capable  and  best  the  world 


410  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUI,. 

has  ever  known. 

In  reply  Merton  said  but  little  except  to  call  the  bishop's 
attention  to  the  dangerous  admissions  he  had  made.  In 
his  letter  the  bishop  had  pleaded  for  the  divinity  of  Christ, 
and  the  special  inspiration  of  the  Scriptures;  and  it  was 
but  natural:  a  bishop  is  a  lord,  though  his  reason  is  en- 
slaved. In  such  a  case  it  is  to  be  expected  that  he  would 
make  a  strong  plea  for  those  principles  on  which  his  bodily 
comforts  depend.  If  he  should  once  admit  his  unbelief  in 
the  superstitions  on  which  his  office  is  founded,  he  would 
be  forced  instantly  to  vacate  his  residence,  and  lose  a  sub- 
stantial income.  This  a  man  like  Merton's  bishop,  could 
not  be  expected  willingly  to  do. 

The  correspondence  did  not  tend  to  unite  them  in 
friendship,  but  rather  to  increase  their  mutual  antipathy. 
It  was  more  than  sixteen  months  from  that  time,  before 
they  again  penned  a  line  to  each  other. 

When  Merton  came  to  execute  his  determination,  he 
found  it  so  unutterably  painful  as  to  surpass  all  powers  of 
description.  What  was  he  about  to  do?  His  action  would 
separate  him  from  the  church  of  his  birth,  and  from  the 
friends  he  so  dearly  loved.  Even  those  of  his  own  blood, 
called  after  the  name  of  his  father,  would  censure  and  up- 
braid him,  and  even  accuse  him  of  sin  in  doing  the  act  he 
contemplated.  The  Bible  which  had  long  since  ceased  to 
be  thought  of  by  the  most  learned  theologians  of  all 
lands,  as  a  literally  inspired  book,  was  regarded  by  those 
most  dear  to  him  as  the  very  autographic  work  of  God. 
But  though  Merton  believed  that  a  much  better  bible  than 
ours  could  be  made  by  sifting  the  precious  wheat  out  of 
the  abundance  of  chaff  contained  in  the  many  different 
bibles  of  the  world,  he  yet  felt  convinced  that  those  nearest 
to  his  soul  would  cry  aloud,  "thou  reprobate!"  So  great 
was  his  suffering  that  he  determined  to  strain  his  sense  of 


THE  BARRIERS  ARE  BROKEN.  4II 

duty,  by  writing  his  bishop  the  following  letter: 

"Right  Rev.  Sir:  From  my  youth  up  I  have  done  scarce- 
ly anything  else  than  study;  and  since  1867  I  have  always 
shaped  my  studies  for  the  better  preparation  for  the  minis- 
try. My  mind  is  now  much  disturbed.  All  men  are  more 
or  less  superstitious,  often  founding  mountains  of  fear  upon 
imaginary  foundations.  From  my  infancy  Christ  has  been 
my  meat  and  drink.  Why  should  I  now  hesitate  to  turn 
aside  from  a  work  not  at  all  desirable?  My  intelligence  says, 
'go;'  but  the  web  which  my  life's  activities  have  woven 
about  me,  is  hard,  yes,  painful  to  break.  But,  God  help- 
ing me,  around  whom  may  my  little  world  ever  move,  I  feel 
I  must  break  through  it.  That  I  should  have  much  dis- 
quietude in  ceasing  to  publish  the  theme  of  Calvary,  seems 
childish,  or  at  least  superstitious;  for  seeking  after  God  on 
purely  Platonic  grounds,  I  should  be  confident  of  beautify- 
ing my  life's  temple,  and  of  fitting  it  for  the  hoped-for 
future  life.  Thus  while  intellectually  confident  that  the  door 
to  God  is  ever}'  point  in  space,  and  that  earnestly  seeking 
after  Him,  whatever  may  be  the  seeker's  creed  or  belief, 
brings  a  resulting,  divine  knowledge;  yet  this  web  of  being, 
so  persistent  in  holding  me  down  tomy  youthful  thoughts, 
tends  to  put  great  limitations  upon  my  intellectual  free- 
dom. 

"I  do,  as  you  know,  belong  to  the  extreme  wing  of  the 
Broad-church  party.  My  interpretation  of  Scripture  and 
ritual  is  conducted  on  rationalistic  grounds  that  I  may 
avoid  blaspheming  Him  whom  I  have  always  worshipped. 
In  other  words,  instead  of  subjecting  reason  to  the  teach- 
ings of  alleged  revelation  or  of  accepted  dogmas,  I  insist 
most  strenuously  at  all  times  on  subjecting  all  teachings 
whatever  to  the  decision  of  the  reason,  whether  such  teach- 
ings be  that  of  alleged  revelation,  tradition,  or  ritual  prac- 
tice.    I  do  this  that  I  may  be  one  with  science,  and  one 


412  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

with  myself.  He  who  does  not  this,  is  not  one  with  science; 
nor  is  he  any  more  one  with  himself. 

"The  extreme  Broad  Church  has  but  little  representa- 
tion in  the  United  States;  and  the  principles  of  my  late  book 
will  bring  me  but  little  sympathy  from  any  other  party. 
It  is  far  from  a  pleasure  to  me  to  dissever  all  my  relations 
with  the  Episcopal  Church,  for  I  have  received  much  lov- 
ing kindness  therein;  and  I  can  never  forget  to  my  dying 
day  the  dear  ones  to  whom  I  have  ministered.  Even  in  this 
painful  letter,  the  saddest  of  my  life,  I  pray  for  them,  and 
hope  to  meet  them,  not  again  in  the  Episcopal  Church, 
but  in  a  better  land  where  none  shall  be  forced  to  choose  be- 
tween yielding  up  the  most  sacred  things  of  his  life,  or  do- 
ing violence  to  reason  and  known  facts.  I  am  as  fully 
convinced  that  the  usual  method  of  Scripture  interpreta- 
tion is  false, as  I  am  of  my  own  existence;  and  I  am  equally 
convinced  that  the  rational  method  is  true.  In  this  belief 
I  am  not  alone;  rather  am  I  in  the  company  of  the  bright- 
est minds  of  all  ages  before  and  after  Christ.  Every  dis- 
tinguishing doctrine  of  the  church  has  passed  through 
seas  of  blood;  and  frequently  a  belief  has  become  enthron- 
ed against  the  reason  by  acquiescence  through  fear  of 
further  opposition,  —  for  few  are  they  who  will  not 
yield  to  threats  of  excommunication,  exile,  social  ostracism, 
or  death. 

"It  is  with  much  pain  that  I  take  the  action  I  now 
take;  but  after  years  of  consideration,  I  am  fully  persuad- 
ed that  I  owe  it  to  the  world,  and  most  of  all  to  myself. 

(i):  "I  do  not  believe  in  a  complete,  local,  exclusive, 
or  infallible  revelation. 

(2):  "lean  not  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  special  cre- 
ation. 

(3):  "I  do  not  accept  the  story  of  the  fall  of  man. 

(4) :  "I  do  not  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  vicarious  atone- 


THK  BARRIERS  ARE  BROKEN.  41^ 

ment. 

(5):  "I  do  not  believe  in  the  doctrine  of  eternal 
punishment,  nor  in  that  of  a  fixed  state  after  death. 

(6):  "I  do  not  believe  that  Christians  possess  an  ex- 
clusively divine  revelation,  or  that  their  Scriptures  are  per- 
fect or  complete, 

(7 ) :  "I  do  not  believe  in  the  dogma  of  the  resurrection 
of  the  dead. 

(8):  "I  protest  against  making  belief  in  the  deity  of 
Christ  an  essential  part  of  faith. 

(9) :  "I  believe  that  all  mankind  are  alike  dear  to  God, 
alike  cared  for,  alike  provided  with  means  necessary  for 
their  good.  I  believe  in  a  continuous  and  universal  revela- 
tion whereby  God  has  revealed,  and  does  reveal,  himself 
through  various  channels  of  the  reason  to  all  mankind;  and 
that  all  local  revelations  are  but  parts  of  a  grand  whole; 
and  that  while  their  differences  may  be,  and  probably  are, 
useful,  as  being  the  natural  outcomes  of  the  minds  profess- 
ing such  differences,  they  are,  on  the  other  hand,  no  essen- 
tial parts  of  saving  faith  in  God. 

(10):  "I  have  a  reasonable,  a  well-grounded  hope,  in 
the  immortality  of  the  soul. 

(11):  "I  believe  that  for  every  wrong  committed  we 
must  all  pay  the  penalty,  must  make  our  own  atonement, 
either  in  this  world  or  that  to  come. 

(12):  "I  believe  that  the  present  age  witnesses  a  higher 
revelation  of  God  than  any  preceding  age.  This  is  the  sub- 
stance of  my  faith. 

"If  you  think  there  is  work  in  your  diocese  for  a  man 
with  principles  as  broad  as  I  profess,  I  am  ready  to  con- 
tinue in  it;  if  you  think  there  is  not,  I  will  seek  work  of 
some  kind  elsewhere. 

"I  have  written  you  confidingly  and  candidly;  and  I 
ask  of  you  an  equally  open  and  candid  answer. 


414  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

"I  am  greatly  delighted  with  Plato.  I  think  there  are 
but  few  living  Christians  who  might  not  be  made  much 
more  virtuous,  and  much  wiser,  by  an  attentive  study  of 
his  gospel: 

'ovk     apa     tov     diKatov     pXawreiv     epyov,    ovre    <pi\ov    ovre    aWou 
ovStva,  aXXa  tov  evavnov  tov  a5i/coir'        (Repllb.   I.  C.  IX.) 

"Adieu,  dear  sir.  May  God  Almighty  help  us  all  to  do 
our  duty,  until  we  meet  where  the  weary  are  at  rest. 

"Very  respectfully, 

"Henry  Merton." 

To  this  letter  Merton  received  the  following  reply: 

"My  dear  Doctor  Merton, — Yours  of  the  1st  inst.  is  re- 
ceived. 

"I  thank  you  for  writing  me  so  frankly  and  for  asking 
of  me  a  candid  answer. 

"Candidly,  therefore,  I  do  not  think  that  any  place  will 
open  in  this  diocese  for  usefulness  for  you  in  discharge  01 
your  duties  as  a  clergyman,  while  you  hold  your  present 
opinions.        Faithfully  yours,         W.  V.  Dummkopf." 

After  fifteen  days  of  indescribable  agony,  Merton  re- 
solved to  strive  no  longer  with  himself  against  his  convic- 
tions of  duty,  but  to  break  the  bonds  that  bound  him,  and 
lay  his  burden  down,  by  writing  a  letter  to  his  bishop,  ask- 
ing that  all  his  relations  with  the  Episcopal  Church  might 
be  immediately  severed.  Merton' s  request  was  granted  by 
his  diocesan;  for  he  was  one  of  those  bishops  who  are  so 
holy,  that  they  can  either  fry  their  opponents  in  the  "dry- 
pan  and  gradual  fire,"  roast  them  at  the  stake,  or  hang 
them  up  by  the  heels,  and  smoke  them;  and  such  a  man 
could  not  be  expected  willingly  to  be  classed  with  heathen 
characters  like  Plato,  who  taught  that  it  is  far  better  to  re- 
ceive injustice  than  to  do  it;  that  the  just  man  never  does 
an  injury,  not  even  to  his  enemy. 

At  the  time  of  Merton' s  ordination  to  the  priesthood, 


THE    BARRIERS   ARE    BROKEN.  415 

he  wrote,  in  his  Hebrew  Bible,  the  following  sentence: 

"Hi7TTW       eVWTTlOU      TOV        0COV       /Cat      TTpOCTKUVlO      TOV      KVpiOV      6%     TV€TTOirjK<B 

p.e    wpecrpvTepov    /cat     5ov\oi>     tov    xpttrrou    tov    HurTjpos    (p.ov. 1    13.11 

down  before  God,  and  worship  the  L,ord,  who  has  made  me 
a  priest  and  slave  of  Christ,  my  Savior."  These  words 
flowed  from  a  most  earnest  and  devoted  heart;  and  the  lit- 
eral characters  were  not  the  mere  scratches  of  a  pen,  but 
the  true  imprint  of  a  soul.  As  Merton  read  them  at  the 
time  he  ceased  to  act  as  a  priest  in  the  Episcopal  Church, 
a  solemn  question  arose  in  his  breast:  "Have  you  been 
true  to  the  promise  contained  in  these  words?  Have  you 
been  true  to  the  God  and  L,ord  before  whom  you  fell  down 
and  worshipped?"  Merton  answered  himself  thus:  If  a 
man  promises  to  live  faithful  to  all  the  injunctions  of  the 
Koran,  is  he  morally  and  rightfully  bound  to  keep  his 
promises,  in  regard  to  those  injunctions  which  he  after- 
wards discovers  to  be  neither  useful  nor  true?  Do  Latimer, 
Luther,  and  Ridley  fasten  upon  themselves  the  charge  of 
moral  turpitude,  because  they  broke  their  ordination  vows? 
All  that  a  man  can  rightfully  mean  in  his  ordination  vows, 
is  that  he  will  be  faithful  in  the  discharge  of  what  he  be- 
lieves to  be  his  duty.  No  person  can  possibly  be  faithful  to 
God,  who  is  not  first  of  all  faithful  to  his  own  convictions 
of  right  and  truth.  The  highest  obligation  a  man  can  have, 
is  the  discharge  of  what  he  believes  to  be  his  duty,  as  day 
by  day,  in  his  eventful  and  progressing  life,  he  is  called  on 
to  determine  what  his  hands  and  heart  shall  do.  There  can 
be  no  virtue  or  moral  worth  belonging  to  an  act  that  is  not 
done  in  accordance  with  the  convictions  of  duty,  it  mat- 
ters not  how  remunerative  or  apparently  successful  such 
an  act  may  be.  He  who  would  fall  down  before  God  and 
worship  Him,  must  take  care  to  do  so,  first  of  all  and  more 
than  all,  in  his  own  heart,  the  place  where  God  delights 
to  dwell,  and  where  He  most  reveals  himself.     Merton  had 


416  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL. 

kept  the  vows  of  his  soul :  he  had  been  true  to  his  convic- 
tions of  duty,  however  much  the  pain  he  had  suffered  in 
discharging  the  same.  When  he  read  the  above  words, 
therefore,  he  did  not  feel  he  had  been  unfaithful;  but  he 
did  feel  pained  at  the  thought  that  the  narrowness  and  dark- 
ness of  the  church  he  gave  his  life  to,  denied  him  the  privi- 
lege of  falling  down  and  worshipping  his  God,  within  her 
walls,  or  of  completing  the  work  which  reverently  and  fear- 
fully he  had  undertaken  to  perform.  In  the  best  and  truest 
sense  Merton  had  kept  his  promise;  but  when  his  expand- 
ing and  rising  soul  was  refused  a  little  space  within  the 
walls  of  superstition,  he  was  compelled  to  seek  a  temple 
whose  chancel  has  never  been  polluted,  nor  altar  desecrat- 
ed, either  by  the  hollow  mockery  of  proud  and  designing 
bishops,  or  the  false-hearted  worship  of  poorly  educated 
and  hypocritical  priests, — the  temple  whose  doors  are  never 
closed,  whose  lights  are  ever  burning,  whose  walls  are  sub- 
ject to  no  decay;  and  where,  entering  into  her  portals,  a 
refuge  from  superstition,  bigotry,  and  tyranny,  the  best  and 
greatest  have  ever  found  closest  communion  with  their 
God, — the  temple  of  Reason. 

"•Liber  captiuosauis ferae  consimilis  est: 
Simulfugiundi  si  datast  occasio, 
Satis  est:  post  Mam  nunquam  possis  prendre" 

{Plant.  Capt.  116.) 

Thus  it  was  with  Merton:  the  barriers  were  broken, and 
he  went  forth  free;  and  as  his  soul  inhaled  the  breath  of 
heaven,  he  felt,  as  it  were,  a  new  birth.  His  shackles  were 
loosened;  and  as  the  chains  so  strongly  wrought  by  the 
powerful  arm  of  Priestcraft,  were  snapped  asunder,  he  felt 
as  never  before  the  meaning  of  the  cry :  Give  me  liberty  or 
death. 

Now  he  could  speak  his  thoughts — the  thoughts  of  an 
honest  heart  beating  for  union  with  God  and  with  good- 


THE    BARRIERS   ARE    BROKEN.  417 

will  toward  mankind,  and  have  no  fear  of  those  rolling  and 
bloody  eyes,  and  that  lolling  tongue,  of  the  many-headed 
monster, Superstition.  Now  he  could  follow  after  righteous- 
ness, and  hear  and  obey  the  whisperings  of  the  Infinite  Soul 
as  He  reveals  himself  in  the  onward  movement  of  the  age. 

Goforth.ye  tear-wrought  pages,  take  wings,  O  love-wrought  book, 

Go,  tell  the  Christian  savage,  God  hath  no  bloody  look. 

Say  to  the  mitred  bishop,  to  sacrificing  priest: 

Leave  Superstition's  banquet  for  Reason's  royal  feast. 

She  hath  no  votive  Victim,  no  chalice  for  his  blood; 
Nor  blood-besprinkled  altar,  nor  martyred  flesh  for  food: 
She  hath  no  angry  Father,  no  sacrificial  Son; 
Her  God  is  good  forever,  she  knows  He  favors  none. 

Go  to  our  ice-girt  neighbor,  where  lojty  pines  do  wave, 

Where  Earth  is  great  with  mineral,  and  rich  in  Sunshine's  grave; 

Speak  out  to  ancient  China,  to  India,  Afric's  land, 

To  Europe  blessed  with  science:  ye  all  are  Holy  Land. 

Go  to  the  sun-burnt  millions,  where  golden  grain  e'er  shine6, 
And  to  their  sallow  brethren  pent  up  in  deep,  dark  mines; 
To  crowded  cities  peopled  with  Want  and  cold  Neglect, 
And  bid  them  all  take  courage,  for  all  are  God's  elect. 
Say  to  the  noble-hearted,  when  crushed  with  toil  and  pain: 
Be  brave,  for  God,  my  brother,  and  duty  still  remain. 

(H.  T.  B.) 


CHAPTER  XL. 

THOUGHTS   ON   THE    OLD    AND    THE    NEW. 

Schon  zveicht  die  tiefe  Naclit.     (Goethe:  Faust  450b.) 
jfa,  -wahrlick!    Ein  Regenbogen  mitten  in  dcr  Nacht. 

{Schiller:  Will.  Tell  973.) 

I T  was  only  a  vision  in  which  I  had  been  attending  a 
meeting  of  so-called  liberal  ministers.  All  around  me 
I  saw  portraits,  images,  statues,  of  the  leading  religionists, 
and  moralists  of  the  world.  Buddha,  Chreshna,  Zoroaster, 
Moses,  Confucius,  Mencius,  Plato,  Aristotle,  and  numer- 
ous others,  occupied  Ipnorable  niches,  indicating  the 
sources  from  which  the  assembled  divines  drew  their  in- 
spiration and  strength.  As  I  gazed  at  those  images,  I  per- 
ceived, to  my  astonishment,  that  they  became  more  and 
more  indistinct,  until  finally  their  outlines  seemed  scarcely 
discernible. 

A  little  to  my  right  began  to  assume  form  a  beautiful, 
marble  statue  representing  Judgment.  It  was  looking  in  the 
direction  of  the  figures  whose  outlines  had  become  so  ob- 
scure. Words  can  not  describe  the  sublime  beauty  of  this 
wonderful  piece  of  marble;  and  my  soul  was  on  fire  with 
admiration.  It  was  an  ideal  work.  The  eyes  seemed  pier- 
cing every  obscurity;  the  nose  was  Grecian;  the  lips  were 
closed;  the  chin,  prominent;  the  brow,  lofty;  and  over  the 
whole  countenance  there  seemed  spread  that  firm  resolu- 
tion as  well  as  that  lofty  seriousness  so  characteristic  of  Pal- 
las Athene.  I  approached  the  figure,  touched  it  with  my 
hand:  it  was  but  stone.  "O  Judgment,"  I  cried,  "thou 
art  indeed  beautiful,  perfect  in  outline,  lovely  in  form, 
glorious  in  appearance;  but  thy  touch  is  cold.  Solace  beams 

not  in  thy   eyes,  thy  bosom  heaves  not  with  compassion, 

4is 


THE   OLD   AND   THE   NEW.  419 

comfort  falls  not  from  thy  lips.  Thou  searchest,  inquir- 
est,  discoverest,  judgest;  but  I  long  for  the  touch  of  a 
friendly  hand,  listen  in  agony  for  words  of  comfort,  hope 
in  vain  for  love  or  mercy.  Oh,  Judgment,  turn  thy  gaze 
in  the  other  direction;  look  into  the  face  of  the  pitiful, 
merciful  Christ.  His  lips  give  comfort,  his  word  assur- 
ance, his  arm  strength;  his  bosom  heaves  with  compassion, 
and  his  heart  is  bursting  with  sympathy. 

The  glorious  image,  to  my  amazement,  turned  on  her 
high  pedestal,  cast  for  a  moment  her  large,  piercing  eyes 
on  me,  and  then  fixed  them  on  the  statue  of  Jesus,  which 
stood  at  the  back  of  the  statue  of  Judgment,  and  in  a  less 
conspicuous  part  of  the  room. 

"Is  this,  then,  thy  God?"  she  asked. 

"Oh,  no,"  I  replied,  "I  ask  thee  not,  O  mighty  Judg- 
ment, to  look  on  him  as  thy  God  or  mine,  but  to  recognize 
in  him  the  great  fountain  of  my  comfort  and  hope,  the 
great  solace  of  my  despairing  soul,  and  the  balm  of  my 
broken  heart.  I  ask  thee  not  to  worship  him  as  thy  God, 
but  to  see  in  him  the  bright  ray  out  of  the  deep  darkness, 
the  sweet  voice  out  of  deathlike  silence,  solace  for  the  de- 
spairing, hope  for  the  dying." 

Tears  were  gushing  from  my  eyes,  my  heart  was  wildly 
beating,  when,  behold,  I  saw  a  soft  and  most  glorious 
light  surround  the  beautiful  statue.  The  beautiful  form 
appeared  to  be  alive.  A  look  of  compassion  passed  over 
her  countenance;  and  crystal  tears  dropped  from  her  eyes, 
causing  white  roses  instantly  to  come  into  bloom,  filling 
with  their  fragrance  the  whole  assembly  room. 

"Thou  hast  well  said,"  she  replied.  "None  should  dis- 
parage the  works  of  the  great  moral  and  religious  leaders 
of  the  world;  and  since  they  were  and  are,  each  and  all, 
co-workers  in  the  building  up  in  humanity  the  kingdom 
of  God,   they  are  all  duly  to  be  honored  and  reverenced. 


420  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

But  the  lion  roams  not  in  company  with  the  polar  bear; 
the  orange  blooms  not  among  the  pines  of  Norway;  this 
flower  dies,  where  that  flower  blooms.  So  with  different 
nations, — what  is  mental  and  moral  food  for  one,  is  mental 
and  moral  poison  for  another.  For  thyself  and  thy  kind, 
no  voice  can  ever  sound  so  sweet  as  that  of  Jesus;  no  word 
be  so  inspiring,  no  gospel  so  full  of  hope,  as  that  which 
comes  from  his  dear  lips.  Man  may  turn  my  gaze  on 
other  forms,  and  I  look  on  them  with  pleasure;  but  only 
when  I  contemplate  the  face  of  him  whom  thou  so  greatly 
lovest,  do  I  become  warm,  and  feel  the  breath  of  life  with- 
in me.  As  the  moral  and  religious  leader  of  thy  race,  and 
of  the  nations  who  have  followed  hmi  for  so  many  centuries, 
he  can  not  be  supplanted,  and  need  not  be.  Though  thy 
manhood  sees  not  in  him  the  god  of  thy  youth,  thou 
canst  yet  find  in  him  the  great  burden-bearer  and  com- 
fort-giver of  suffering  humanity.  So,  weary  soul,  cast 
thy  burdens  on  him,  and  he  will  help  thee;  imitate  his  life, 
and  thou  shalt  find  his  strength  in  thy  death." 

My  vision  passed  away.  It  was  early  morning;  and  I 
was  so  much  affected  that  I  have  been  led  to  pen  these 
lines  on  the  present  religious  unbelief,  or  on  the  old  and 
the  new. 

I  am  no  more  a  believer  in  visions  than  in  dreams;  and 
I  have  no  more  faith  in  dreams  than  in  a  universal  and  in- 
variable revelation.  Dreams  are  but  faint  echoes,  under 
unconscious  conditions,  of  the  soul's  cries  under  conscious 
activity.  True  enough,  there  was  more  poetry,  more 
imagery,  in  my  dream-thought, than  in  my  waking;  but  the 
substance  of  my  vision  was  but  the  conviction  of  my  soul  in 
my  most  thoughtful  moments.  The  assembly  of  preachers 
shows  the  general  dissatisfaction  with  existing,  religious 
conditions,  and  the  unrest  of  clergy  and  people,  and  a  de- 
sire on -the  part  of  the  clergy  to  find  a  remedy. 


THE   OLD   AND   THE    NEW.  42 1 

With  reference  to  faith,  mankind  may  be  divided  into 
four  classes, — Scholars  with  ecclesiastical  duties  and 
obligations,  Scientific  scholars,  Men  of  average  education 
whose  reading  consists  chiefly  of  current,  cheap  literature, 
and  the  Ignorant  classes.  Of  the  first  class  it  may  be  said 
that  their  duties  and  obligations  have  such  a  restraining 
influence  over  their  tongue  and  pen,  as  to  dwarf,  or  kill, 
the  growth  of  honest  skepticism,  or  to  lead  them  to  make 
known  to  the  world  those  thoughts  only  which  give  least 
offence  to  their  church  superiors  or  relations.  Of  the 
second  class  it  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  it  is  wholly  com- 
posed of  infidels  (considered  from  an  orthodox  standpoint), 
agnostics,  and  skeptics.  The  third  class  is  made  up  in 
general  of  men  wholly  indifferent  to  church  and  creed, 
though  for  the  sake  of  appearances  they  may  sometimes  be 
found  in  comfortable  pews.  The  fourth  class  contains  the 
men  and  women  of  simple  and  unquestioning  faith;  and 
from  this  class  the  rank  and  file  of  the  greatest  of  all 
orthodox  churches  are  recruited.  Such  are  those,  we  are 
told,  who  heard  the  Iyord  in  the  beginning;  and  such  are 
they  who  will  be  found  following  his  banner,  when  all 
others  have  fallen  out  of  the  ranks. 

Some  may  insist  that  I  have  no  right  to  hold  that 
those  who  fill  ecclesiastical  positions,  or  are  in  any 
way  under  ecclesiastical  obligations,  are  in  such  servitude 
as  I  have  here  stated;  but  such  objectors  I  am  sure  have 
not  the  scholarly  qualifications  requisite  for  criticizing  my 
assertion,  or  else  have  but  a  very  slight  knowledge  of  hu- 
man nature,  or  of  the  results  of  ecclesiastical  ostracism. 
It  is  only  a  short  time  ago  that  a  leading  minister,  in  one 
of  the  foremost  cities  of  the  country,  told  me  he  had  no 
faith  in  the  deity  of  Christ,  and  that  his  wife  was  an  infi- 
del; yet  this  minister  could  preach  a  rousing  Methodist 
sermon.     Another  equally  high  in  standing,  but  of  a  dif- 


422  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

ferent  denomination,  said  that  "a  man  dares  not  preach  as 
he  believes;  congregations  have  troubles  enough  without 
having  to  carry  those  of  their  ministers."  Should  it  be 
objected  that  my  judgment  of  the  attitude  of  scientific 
scholars,  is  an  erroneous  one,  I  have  only  to  refer  the  ob- 
jector to  the  writings  of  scientists  dead  and  living. 

It  may  be  asked,  what  is  the  cause  of  this  general  un- 
rest. We  reply — philosophical  inquiry,  scientific  discov- 
eries, and  the  general  scientific  spirit.  Science  has  com- 
pletely shattered  much  of  what  for  ages  has  been  held, 
without  question,  to  be  the  indestructible  work  of  God 
himself.  The  biblical  account  of  the  creation  of  the  world, 
the  special  creation  of  man,  the  story  of  the  garden  of  Eden, 
the  fall  of  man,  the  placing  of  all  animal  life  in  the  ark  by 
Noah,  casting  out  devils,  blowing  down  walls  with  trum- 
pets, resurrections  from  the  dead,,  virginal  parturition,  the 
stories  of  the  Annunciation  and  Ascension,  and  other 
miracles  of  every  description, — these  are  some  of  the  so- 
called  facts  of  the  Bible,  which  Geology,  Astronomy, 
Anthropology,  History,  and  the  critical  spirit  in  general, 
have  made  it  utterly  impossible  for  the  thoughtful  and  in- 
dependent mind  any  longer  to  believe.  The  popular  pub- 
lication of  the  writings  of  the  ante-Nicene  Fathers,  and  the 
whole-sale  biblical  criticism  of  the  age,  have  done  their 
share  in  filling  the  average  breast  with  unrest  and  skep- 
ticism. I  must  admit  that  nothing  had  a  more  damaging 
effect  on  my  boyhood  faith  than  my  acquaintance  with 
these  ante-Nicene  writings  of  the  church.  The  absurd, 
gross,  revolting,  and  disgusting  assertions  contained  in 
these  writings,  vouched  for  by  those  holy  men,  are  suffi- 
cient to  prepare  any  man  to  expect  similar  absurdities  from 
writers  contemporaneous  or  almost  so, — for  instance,  from 
the  writers  of  the  New  Testaments. 

Having  spoken  of  the  present  religious  unrest  indicat- 


THE  OED  AND  THE    NEW.  423 

ed  by  the  meeting  of  the  preachers  in  my  vision,  we 
might  ask,  can  any  remedy  be  found?  Is  there  any  balm 
in  Gilead? 

The  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  the  existence  of  a  per- 
sonal God,  remain  in  the  judgment  of  the  leading  thinkers 
of  all  ages  undemonstrated  and  undemonstrable.  Even  phil- 
osophers most  friendly  to  the  religious  spirit,  have  willingly 
or  unwillingly  admitted  this.  Now,  while  it  is,  as  Kant 
teaches,  utterly  impossible  to  demonstrate  the  soul's  im- 
mortality, or  the  existence  of  a  personal  God,  it  is  not  true, 
as  some  would-be  philosophers  of  the  present  day  affirm, 
that  man  is  as  contented  with  belief  in  the  immortality  of 
his  moral  influence  upon  the  soul  of  the  race  to  come,  as  in 
his  own  personal  immortality;  and  with  belief  in  universal 
nature  as  his  impersonal,  unconscious  god,  as  in  that  of  the 
God  of  Jesus,  who  is  represented  as  ever  ready  to  hear  his 
children's  cry,  and  provide  for  their  wants.  Mankind  clings 
to  the  hope  of  personal  immortality,  and  longs  for  it,  whether 
the  hope  or  longing  can  be  ever  realized  or  not;  and  man 
naturally  prays  to  what  he  imagines  to  be  a  living,  person- 
al, conscious  God,  whether  such  a  being  be  existent  or  not. 
Man  as  man  loves  whom  he  imagines  to  be  God,  and  is 
prone  to  seek  help  and  comfort  from  Him,  when  he  despairs 
of  getting  aid  from  any  other  source.  Nor  does  any  man 
live,  in  my  judgment,  who  hates  God.  A  few  days  ago  there 
appeared,  in  a  leading  paper,  the  assertion  that  a  certain, 
widely  known,  popular  lecturer  hates  God  and  the  Demo- 
cratic party.  Such  foolish,  and  most  unjust  assertions  are 
common  in  newspapers;  but  they  are  no  less  untrue  than 
they  are  common.  The  lecturer  may  hate  the  god  of  the 
person  who  wrote  the  article,  but  I  am  sure  he  does  not  hate 
the  Being  whom  he  himself  imagines  to  be  God.  It  is  evi- 
dent enough,  therefore,  that  if  a  remedy  is  not  at  hand  for 
the  existent,  religious  unbelief,  it  is  not  that  mankind  is  un- 


424  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL. 

willing  to  receive  one.  Man  is  ever  ready  to  hear  a  word 
from  heaven,  or  to  receive  divine  consolation;  but  he  has 
been  humbugged  so  many  hundreds,  thousands,  of  years, 
that  he  is  r.o  longer  the  ready  tool  of  ecclesiastics. 

Is  the  remedy  for  the  present  unbelief  a  restoration  of 
faith  in  the  god  of  the  Old  Testament,  or  in  the  god  of 
Jewish  conception? 

My  answer  to  this  question  is,  that  whether  or  not  such 
a  restoration  would  constitute  a  remedy  for  the  present  un- 
belief, all  attempts  at  applying  this  remedy  must  surely  fail; 
because  mankind,  unless  it  retrogrades,  can  never  again 
conceive  of  God  under  the  dark  and  bloody  character  as- 
cribed to  Him  in  the  ancient  Jewish  religion.  No  refined 
mind  can  believe  in  a  god  who  delights  in  burnt  offerings, 
bloody  sacrifices;  who  sniffs  with  pleasure  the  smoke  from 
the  burning  victim;  who  orders  the  massacre  of  every  man 
and  woman,  but  the  preservation  of  virgins  for  the  pur- 
poses of  lust;  who  hardens  men's  hearts,  to  punish  them 
the  more  cruelly ;  who  sends  a  lying  spirit  into  the  heart  of 
man,  for  the  purposes  of  deception;  who  fears  that  man  may 
attain  equal  power  with  deity;  who  seeks  vengeance  on  the 
innocent  for  the  crimes  of  the  guilty;  who  creates  that  he 
may  destroy;  who  makes  one  for  the  purpose  of  honor  and 
life,  and  another  for  the  purpose  of  dishonor  and  death; 
who  teaches  his  favorites  the  art  of  war;  who  with  fury  and 
hatred  exterminates  nations  for  the  happy  settlement  of  his 
chosen  people;  who  writes  with  his  fingers,  and  talks  with 
humanity  as  man  to  man;  who  visits  the  sins  of  fathers  up- 
on their  children.  All  these  unjust  and  wicked  acts  are  as- 
cribed to  the  god  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  a  thousand 
others  equally  shameful;  and  such  are  the  acts  that  make 
it  impossible  for  any  refined  mind  to  believe  in  the  god  of 
the  Jews.  God  writes  not  his  laws  with  his  fingers  on 
tables  of  stone.     As  Goethe  well  says: 


THE   OLD    AND  THE   NEW.  425 

"Sie  reden  nur  durck  unsrr  Hertz  zu  uns— 

God  speaks  to  us  only  through  our  heart."      (I ph. an f  Tau.) 

We  do  not  say  that  faith  in  the  Jewish  god  was  not  good 
and  proper  for  the  Jews  of  ancient  times;  nor  that  the  char- 
acter of  their  god,  Javeh,  was  not  better  than  that  ascribed 
to  the  gods  of  many  other  ancient  peoples.  The  gods  of  an- 
cient times  could  not  have  been,  and  the  gods  of  present 
time  can  not  be,  other  than  the  embodiment  of  the  ideals  of 
those  who  worshipped  or  worship  them.  The  truth  of  this 
statement  no  one  will  attempt  to  combat.  It  is  therefore  not 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  god  worshipped  by  a  people 
of  one  civilization,  can  receive  the  faith  of  a  people  of  an- 
other and  different  civilization.  As  a  people  advances,  so 
does  the  character  of  their  god  become  more  and  more  ex- 
alted. We  hold,  therefore,  that  a  restoration  of  faith  in  the 
Jewish  god  is  wholly  impossible;  and  that  even  if  it  could 
be  accomplished, such  restoration  would  result,  of  necessity, 
in  the  deterioration  of  present  civilization.  We  next  ask — 

Is  there  a  Remedy  in  Moral,  Philanthropical,  and 
Sociological  Work? 

To  this  we  reply :  What  physician  talks  of  an  epidermic 
disease,  when  his  attention  is  called  to  a  case  of  tuberculo- 
sis? The  foolishness  of  such  a  course  on  the  part  of  a  phys- 
ician, would  be  no  more  apparent, than  is  the  folly  of  those 
who  offer, as  a  remedy  for  religious  unbelief,  a  moral,  socio- 
logical, or  philanthropical  cure.  Men  may  illogically, 
sophistically,  or  basely  use  the  term,  "religion,"  when  in 
the  general  judgment  of  mankind,  they  mean  only  moral- 
ity, or  a  life  conformable  to  nature;  for  there  is  no  way  of 
forcing  on  writers  candor  or  perspicuity.  But  the  efforts 
of  such  men  to  pass  themselves  off  for  doctors  of  religion, 
when  every  troubled  soul  knows  they  are  evident  quacks 
and  impostors,  will  be  most  surely  in  vain.  Morality  and 
religion  are  no  more  one,  than  are  night  and  day.     True 


426  FOOTPRINTS   OF  A  SOUL. 

enough,  night  and  day  make  one  revolution  of  the  earth 
on  her  axis,  and  the  highest  morals  and  truest  religion 
enter  into  the  making  of  a  perfect  human  character;  but  as 
night  means  the  time  of  rest  and  day  the  time  for  activity, 
so  morality  means  man's  relation  to  man,  and  religion  his 
relation  to  God.  It  is  not  enough  that  by  lexicology  we 
can,  show  an  apparent  right  to  the  use  of  a  given  word  in 
any  given  case.  We  should  ask  ourselves,  if  such  a  word 
will  convey  a  false  impression,  or  if  such  a  word  is  the  one 
generally  used  in  the  given  case.  If  it  will  convey  an  ambig- 
uous meaning,  or  to  the  general  reader  a  meaning  other 
than  the  writer  intends,  then  no  honest  or  careful  writer 
will  make  use  of  such  word.  The  word  "religion,"  it 
matters  not  what  its  derivation  may  be,  has  been  used  such 
a  vast  number  of  years  exclusively  to  show  man's  duty  or 
obligation  to  God,  that  it  can  not  be  correctly  used  to-day 
to  convey  any  other  meaning.  Every  fair-minded  man 
must  look  with  contempt  on  the  actions  of  those  who  use 
the  word  "religion,"  when  the  content  of  the  word, accord- 
ing to  its  received  meaning,  never  enters  into  their  hearts, 
in  the  use  of  it. 

We  most  emphatically  hold  that  man  is  a  religious  be- 
ing, and  that  therefore  no  merely  moral,  sociological,  or 
philanthropical  food  can  ever  appease  his  longing  for  Him 
after  whom  he  gropes  in  the  darkness,  whom  he  believes 
to  be  a  living,  conscious,  personal  God,  and  in  whom  he 
hopes  for  comfort  and  peace.  Man  prays,  but  not  to  a 
mere  force;  man  hopes,  but  not  in  mere  universal  law;  man 
trusts,  but  not  in  the  '  'survival  of  the  fittest, ' '  true  as  the 
law  undoubtedly  is.  Nor  can  man  cease  to  hope,  and  trust, 
and  pray;  and,  therefore,  he  will  ever  be  a  religious  being, 
hoping  and  trusting  in,  and  praying  confidently  to,  a  liv- 
ing, personal  God,  to  whom  in  distress  he  naturally  cries: 
"Father,  if  it  be  possible,  let  this  cup  pass  from  me." 


THE    OLD   AND   THE    NEW.  427 

Man  may  lose  all  faith  in  church  and  priest,  in  forms  and 
ceremonies,  in  surplices  and  stoles,  in  patens  and  chalices, 
in  altars  and  sacrifices;  but  in  the  darkness  he  will  still  feel 
after  Him,  for  whom  his  heart  and  his  flesh  cry  out;  nor 
will  he  cease  searching  after  and  trusting  in  God,  while 
life  shall  last.  Man  asks  for  a  fish,  will  you  give  him  a 
stone?  Play  not  with  man's  sacred  feelings  thus.  But 
this  is  what  is  done  by  him  who  seeks  to  cure  the  present 
religious  unbelief  by  applying  moral,  sociological,  or  phil- 
anthropical  remedies.  We  therefore  conclude  that  such 
efforts  can  have  no  remedial  effect  on  the  the  evil  in  ques- 
tion. We  may  look  on  Buddha,  Confucius,  Mencius,  or 
any  others  of  their  kind  whom  our  fathers  never  knew; 
but  great  and  noble  as  they  all  were  and  are,  our  coun- 
tenances will  not  shine,  our  poor  dead  hearts  will  not 
pulsate  with  warmth  and  life  from  the  reading  of  their 
moral  or  philanthropical  precepts.  They  move  us  only  so 
far  as  they  speak  to  us  religiously;  and  since  our  civiliza- 
tion can  not  be  made  to  recognize  in  them  the  fountains 
from  which  we  draw  our  religious  inspiration,  we  hold 
there  is  no  remedy  for  existing  religious  unbelief,  in  point- 
ing burdened  souls  to  them. 

A  Proposed  Remedy : 

In  geological  study,  nothing  is  more  evident  than  that 
in  the  evolution  of  vegetable  and  animal  life,  certain  forms 
have  had  their  culmination  during  certain  epochs  of  the 
earth's  history.  In  some  cases  this  is  so  evident  that  their 
fossils  are  characteristic  of  the  age.  Reptiles  and  mollusks 
culminated  in  the  Mesozoic  age,  and  Trilobites  and  Brach- 
iopods  in  the  Paleozoic.  Says  Dana:  "Living  species  are 
always  adapted  to  some  special  climate  or  condition  of  the 
globe;  and  when  this  climate  or  condition  has  been  passed 
in  the  earth's  progress,  the  tribes  fitted  for  it  no  longer  ex- 
ist."    I  should  rather  say  that  the  forms  of  life  are  true 


428  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A  SOUL. 

though  slow  results  of  the  earth's  geological, physical,  and 
climatic  conditions;  and  that,  therefore,  they  change  of 
necessity  as  their  conditions  change.  Notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  in  Devonian  times  the  seas  were  swarming 
with  fishes  most  formidably  armed  for  offensive  as  well  as 
defensive  warfare,  of  all  the  species,  genera,  and  even 
families  then  existing,  not  one  to  day  remains.  L,e  Conte 
says  that  the  mammals  of  Tertiary  times  are  now  wholly 
extinct;  and  Dana  tells  us  that  all  the  fishes,  reptiles,  birds, 
and  mammals  of  that  same  period,  are  extinct  species. 
(Manual  of  Geology,  518).  The  statement  that  all  mam- 
malian life  of  theTertiary  period  has  passed  off  the  earth's 
surface,  I  consider  far  from  substantiated;  but  I  have  given 
the  words  of  authorities  more  to  prove  the  general  fact  of 
the  constant  change  of  living  forms  than  to  show  the  ex- 
tinction or  continuance  of  any  particular  species. 

Now,  as  animal  forms  are  the  results  of  peculiar  geo- 
logical, physical,  and  climatic  conditions,  which  cause  the 
culmination  of  different  forms  at  different  times;  so  it  ap- 
pears to  me  are  mental  forms  surely  and  certainly  the 
products  of  evolution,  though  the  factors  causing  mental 
changes  are  more  obscure,  and  therefore  less  easily 
recognized.  Certain  mental  types  appear  to  have  their 
culmination,  and  then  to  pass  away,  never  again  to 
return;  or  if  ever  they  return,  it  can  be  only  after 
man  has  passed  through  a  preparatory  period  similar 
to  that  which  preceded  their  first  coming.  A  man  honor- 
ed at  one  age  as  an  apostle  of  God,  is  at  another  cast  into 
prison  as  a  disturber  of  the  peace,  or  put  to  death  as  a 
malefactor.  To-day  over  the  people,  a  man  has  almost  ■ 
miraculous  power,  and  unlimited  influence;  while  some- 
time in  the  past  or  future,  he  would  have  been,  or  would 
be,  received  by  the  same  people  with  shouts  of  derision. 
A  god  at  one  time,  is  a  deranged  person  or  an  impostor  at 


THE   OLD  AND   THE   NEW.  429 

another.  The  same  forces  which  evolve  the  prophet  or  re- 
former, evolve  also  the  receptivity  of  the  masses.  This 
is  the  natural  order.  When  this  order  of  nature  is  depart- 
ed from,  as  it  sometimes  is,  as  in  the  cases  of  retrogres- 
sion and  monstrosities,  if  the  prophet  is  at  hand,  the  peo- 
ple will  not  believe  him;  and  if  the  people  are  at  hand, 
they  seek  the  prophet  in  vain. 

About  two  thousand  years  ago  the  Jewish  people  had 
been  passing  through  those  experiences  that  in  their  very 
nature  resulted  in  the  expectation  of  a  political  and  spir- 
itual reformer  or  savior;  and  the  customs  of  the  people  had 
for  ages  been  such  as  naturally  resulted  in  the  culmination 
of  the  prophetic  type.  It  is  not  unf requent  that  persons  ap- 
pear to-day  claiming  to  be  prophets  and  saints;  but  they  are 
sporadic  characters,  whose  professions  and  powers  are  soon 
scoffed  at,  and  disproved  by  the  critical  spirit  of  the  age. 
Such  characters  generally  appear  among  ignorant  people, 
and  within  their  narrow  sphere  become  celebrated  or  wor- 
shipped; but  they  can  not  pass  beyond  the  bounderies  of 
superstition.  Science  and  skepticism  set  up  an  effectual  bar- 
rier. Many  of  these  pretenders  would  have  flourished,  or 
become  universally  famous,  had  they  appeared  during  the 
ages  of  credulity;  and  many  of  those  who  have  been  uni- 
versally celebrated,  would  never  be  known  beyond  their 
own  superstitious  circle,  if  they  made  their  appearance  to- 
day. In  olden  times  an  infectious  disease  had  open  way,  and 
therefore  cut  down  the  people  as  a  scythe  the  grass;  but  to- 
day sanitary  science  and  disinfectants  confine  the  disease, 
prevent  its  progress,  and  cut  off  its  sway.  Thus  it  is  with 
the  class  of  saviors  and  prophets:  their  times  are  passed, and 
the  rule  of  science  and  critical  inquiry  has  set  in.  It  mat- 
ters not  how  great  a  professed  reformer  and  savior  appeared 
to-day,  in  a  scientific  country  he  would  not  be  received  ex- 
cept as  a  disturber  of  the  peace;  but  as  time  blunts  the  edge 


43°  FOOTPRINTS    OF   A   SOUL. 

of  criticism,  and  weaves  about  the  persons  of  ancient  days 
garments  of  sancity,  authority,  and  devotion,  it  is  not  easy 
to  destroy  the  faith  of  people  in  their  idols,  nor  is  it  at  all 
apparent  that  it  would  be  wise  to  do  so. 

Jesus  Christ,  supposing  him  to  be  an  historical  charac- 
ter, was  a  great  Jewish  reformer,  who  was  naturally  enough 
denounced  and  persecuted  by  those  whose  offices  he  sought 
to  change,  or  whose  ways  he  labored  to  alter.  Such  char- 
acters were  opposed  to  him  chiefly  on  the  grounds  of  self- 
interest,  and  not  from  any  adherence  to  science  or  from  the 
fact  that  they  were  governed  by  the  scientific  spirit ;  for  the 
mantle  of  superstition  was  almost  universally  spread.  Few 
men  there  were  of  scientific  turn  of  mind,  and  "such  only 
smiled  when  they  heard  of  the  wonderful  works  of  the 
great  Jewish  reformer;  but  these  were  foreigners,  or  out- 
side of  synagogue  and  indifferent  to  temple.  The  great  ma- 
jority of  every  land  had  been  born,  rocked,  and  raised,  in 
superstition;  and  such  heard  the  reformer  gladly,  and  very 
many  followed  him.  He  preached  to  the  poor,  and  loved 
them;  while  he  burned  with  indignation  at  the  idleness, 
selfishness,  and  sordidness,  of  the  rich,  giving  the  latter  a 
place  in  hell,  and  the  former  a  place  in  heaven.  He  was  a 
lover  of  truth,  justice, and  righteousness;  and  had  a  sublime 
and  unlimited  faith  in  God  and  his  providence.  He  brought 
God  as  near  to  man,  as  Socrates  brought  philosophy.  He 
was  filled  with  one  idea — the  completion  of  what  he  be- 
lieved was  his  conscious  mission.  Neither  the  threats 
of  his  persecutors,  nor  suffering,  nor  penury, nor  death  could 
deter  him  from  denouncing  the  transgressor,  and  hurling 
his  maledictions  on  the  hypocrite;  any  more  than  they  could 
from  blessing  the  poor  in  spirit  who  were  lovers  of  God 
and  man. 

It  is  this  Jesus,  this  Jewish  reformer,  that  alone  holds 
any  sway,  as  a  religious  leader,  over  the  more  enlightened 


the;  old  and  the  new.  431 

nations  of  the  world;  and  although  by  men  of  scientific  mind 
and  education,  whose  bread  comes  not  from  the  offerings 
of  the  faithful,  he  is  almost  without  exception  regarded  as 
only  human,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  they  admire  and  love  him, 
and  indignantly  resent  any  attempt  to  dethrone  him,  or  to 
put  another  in  his  place.  They  may  admire  other  great 
world-reformers,  acknowledge  the  great  good  they  have 
done,  and  see  in  them  the  Christs  and  saviors  of  their  re- 
spective peoples,  but  for  them,  skeptics  as  they  are,  there  is 
only  one  Jesus,  and  his  glory  and  leadership  they  will  not 
give  to  another.  To  them  his  name  is  dearer,  his  word  more 
cheering,  his  presence  more  hopeful  than  that  of  any  other 
leader  who  has  ever  lived.  It  is  therefore  safe  to  say  that 
whatever  remedy  we  seek  to  use  for  the  existing  religious 
unbelief,  it  must  be  given,  if  at  all,  under  the  leadership  of 
Jesus;  and  this  is  said  not  on  the  grounds  of  any  absurd  or 
monstrous  claims  of  his  being  God-man,  or  having  been 
born  of  a  virgin,  but  solely  on  the  grounds  that,  having  as 
clear  a  right  and  title  to  this  headship  as  any  other  claim- 
ant, and  having  been  in  quiet  and  peaceful  possession  of 
this  headship  for  nearly  2,000  years,  he  can  not  be  sup- 
planted by  another,  or  in  legal  language,  ousted  from  his 
occupancy. 

Having  shown  that  under  the  conditions  of  our  present 
moral  and  spiritual  enlightenment,  no  other  leadership 
than  that  of  Jesus  is  possible, it  now  remains  to  ask  whether 
a  symbol  of  faith  is  necessary,  and  if  so  what  must  be  its 
form  and  substance. 

All  true  men  are  more  or  less  patriotic;  but  in  cases  of 
actual  warfare  it  has  ever  been  deemed  useful,  if  not  neces- 
sary, to  have  some  symbol,  banner,  or  standard  to  fight 
under.  Such  a  symbol  reminds  one  of  his  country,  his  wife, 
and  his  children;  and  serves  as  a  rallying  centre  or  point, 
and  fills  the  spirit  with  those  qualities  so  requisite  for  the 


432  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

battle-field.  The  symbol  makes  possible  unity  of  thought 
and  act,  and  enables  each  soldier  to  know  that  he  is  fight- 
ing under  the  direction  of  one  common  commander  or  gen- 
eral. In  addition  to  this,  it  serves  to  distinguish  the  forces 
of  one's  country  from  those  of  the  enemy, — a  work  of  no 
little  importance  in  times  of  warfare. 

Now,  the  work  of  a  church  must  be  carried  on,  if  at  all, 
in  a  manner  similar  to  that  in  which  a  battle  is  waged. 
Church-work  is  supposed  to  be  a  battle  against  wrong-do- 
ing of  every  description.  Sin  and  immorality  are  to  be 
overcome,  and  righteousness  and  good  morals  built  up. 
The  pastor  is  the  commander,  and  the  other  church  officers 
are  his  assistants  in  this  battle  which  is  supposed  to  be 
waged  for  God  and  humanity.  Every  reason  urged  for  the 
necessity  of  a  symbol  in  secular  warfare,  may  be  equalled 
with  similar  reasons  for  the  use  of  a  symbol  in  spiritual 
battles.  The  principles  for  which  one  fights,  should  be 
clearly  understood;  the  will  of  the  commander  should  be 
known ;  there  should  be  a  rallying  centre  or  point;  the  forces 
for  and  against  should  be  distinguished;  and  there  should 
be  an  object  from  the  sight  or  contemplation  of  which, cour- 
age or  zeal  might  be  derived.  As  we  do  not  believe  that 
success  can  follow  the  movements  of  a  bannerless  army,  so 
do  we  not  believe  that  success  can  attend  the  labors  of  a 
symbolless  church.  In  other  words,  a  creed  is  necessary  to 
the  existence  of  a  conquering  church.  No  banner, no  army; 
no  creed,  no  church. 

Admitting  there  must  be  a  creed  in  order  that  a  church 
may  have  a  successful  existence,  our  last  question  is,  what 
must  be  its  form  and  substance. 

A  creed  of  no  words  is  despair,  and  a  creed  of  many 
words  superstition.  Of  these  two  evils  some  may  prefer  the 
one,  others  may  prefer  the  other;  but  neither  the  one  nor 
the  other  can  finally  hold  the  heart  of  humanity.    In  form 


THE    OLD    AND   THE    NEW.  433 

a  creed  should  be  simple  to  understand,  grand  in  expres- 
sion, concise  in  statement,  and  sufficiently  long  to  attract 
and  hold  the  thought  of  a  worshipping  assembly.  The  cus- 
tom of  repeating  the  so-called  Apostle's  Creed  by  Episco- 
pal congregations  is  of  incalculable  value  to  that  church  it- 
self, and  has  a  striking  effect  on  strangers  that  happen  to 
visit  it.  Its  length  is  but  little  if  any  too  great  for  the  end 
desired;  and  in  grandeur,  and  conciseness  it  is  everything 
that  could  be  wished  for.  Nor  in  our  judgment  does  it  fall 
short  in  clearness  and  simplicity.  The  logomachy  that  so 
often  occurs  over  it,  is  rather  the  result  of  forced  construc- 
tions than  of  any  ambiguity  in  meaning.  We  admit  the 
beauty  in  form  of  that  creed,  but  we  can  not  yield  our  as- 
sent to  its  substance;  and  from  many  years  of  ministerial 
experience  in  that  church,  we  do  not  believe  we  ever  knew 
a  single  male  communicant  who  had  no  doubts  of  the  truth 
of  that  creed  in  its  entirety.  Nor  can  this  be  wondered  at; 
for  men  in  general  inhale  the  air  of  a  scientific  atmosphere, 
and  are  therefore  prone  to  regard  with  grave  suspicions  all 
assertions  which  in  their  very  nature  are  subversive  of  uni- 
versal law,  order, and  experience.  It  is  therefore  first  of  all 
and  most  of  all  necessary  that  in  substance  a  creed  should 
be  at  one  with  universal  law,  order,  and  experience,  that 
it  receive  the  assent  of  men  of  independent  thought 
and  liberal  education, — in  other  words,  of  the  scientific 
world. 

It  may  be  regarded  as  highly  presumptuous  in  the  au- 
thor,  in  daring  to  express  his  opinion  as  to  what  the  substance 
of  a  creed  should  be;  but  we  believe  that  there  are  but  few 
men  of  our  civilization  who  would  not  give  their  hearty 
assent  to,  or  at  least  hope  for  the  truth  of,  a  creed  some- 
thing like  the  following: 

I  believe  in  God  the  Father  Almighty,  Creator  of  heaven 

and  earth;  and  in  Jesus  Christ  his  Prophet  our  Leader  and 
28 


434  FOOTPRINTS   OF   A   SOUL. 

Head,  who  suffered  under  Pontius  Pilate,  was  crucified, 
dead,  and  buried;  but  is  alive  with  God  forevermore. 

I  believe  in  God  as  the  Savior  and  Sanctifier;  the  com- 
munion of  saints;  the  forgiveness  of  sins;  the  brotherhood 
of  man;  and  the  life  everlasting.     Amen. 

We  would  assist  in  establishing  a  religion  broad  as  hu- 
manity, deep  as  God's  love;  and  in  the  establishment  of  a 
church  whose  creed  every  religious  person,  of  whatever 
name  or  nation,  could  heartily  repeat.  We  do  not  believe 
in  establishing,  nor  would  we  wish  to  join,  a  creedless 
church;  nor  do  we  believe  that  the  heart  of  humanity  could 
ever  find  rest  in  such  a  body.  But  the  clauses  in  the  creed 
of  the  church  that  we  would  assist  in  establishing,  would  be 
few  indeed — the  fewer  the  better;  for  the  strength  of  a  creed 
is  not  in  its  length.  A  long  and  closely  defined  creed  may 
be  a  string  of  subtilely  woven  falsehoods;  whereas  a  creed 
of  not  more  than  a  single  clause,  might  be  a  truth  upon 
which  humanity  could  build  forever.  The  God  of  such  a 
creed,  however,  although  immanent  in,  would  not  be 
thought  of  as  synonymous  with,  nature,  nor  nature's  laws; 
but  as  the  Being  in  whom  nature  has  its  existence,  and  its 
laws  their  source. 

Some  may  imagine  that  our  work  has  been  destructive; 
but  such  would  be  an  unwarranted  inference.  We  wish  to 
tear  down  only  what  is  crumbling  and  dangerous,  that  we 
may  the  more  firmly  establish  what  is  solid  and  abiding.  We 
would  break  down  falsehood,  boasting,  hypocrisy  .pretence; 
we  would  build  up  truthfulness,  humility,  sincerity, candor. 

As  a  parting  word  the  author  would  say  that  he  has 
aimed  to  set  before  the  reader  the  footprints  of  a  soul  search- 
ing after  truth  and  righteousness;  and  in  the  person  of  a 
most  scholarly  and  conscientious  priest,  to  exemplify  the 
strife  existing  in  the  mind  between  reason  and  dogma.  This 
strife  exists  in  all  thoughtful  souls;  but  so  deep  and  intense 


THE   OLD   AND    THE   NEW.  435 

is  it  in  the  minds  of  the  most  scholarly,  that  they  can  not 
any  longer  fall  down  before  the  idols  of  their  youth — the 
absurdities  of  old.  They  therefore  look  earnestly  for  a  faith 
that  shall  be  consonant  with  reason,  at  one  with  nature, 
and  at  the  same  time  comforting  to  the  heart.  Let  us  not 
deceive  ourselves  with  boasting  of  our  great  knowledge  of 
God:  the  conscious  ignorance  of  the  true  scholar  precludes 
all  dogmatism.  So  much  we  know:  he  that  most  doeth  jus- 
tice, most  loveth  mercy,  walketh  most  humbly, — he  it  is 
who  is  made  most  in  the  image  of  God. 

"Das  Alte  stuerzt,  es  aendert  sic//  die  Zcit, 
Und  neues  Leben  bluekt  aus  den  Ruinen — 
The  ancient  powers  and  customs  fall. 
The  age  itself  is  changing; 
Behold  a  new  and  youthful  life 
From  out  the  ruins  springing." 

{Schiller :  Willi  elm  Tell,  242$.) 


436  FOOTPRINTS  OF  A  SOUL. 


A  "TE  DEUM,"  OR  HYMN  TO  GOD 

BY 

CLEANTHES. 
(Born  about  300  B.  C,  at  Assos  in  Troas.) 

Most  glorious  of  the  Immortals,  many-named,  Almighty  forever! 

Zeus,  ruler  of  Nature,  that  governest  all  things  with  law, 

Hail!  for  lawful  it  is  that  all  mortals  should  address  Thee. 

For  we  are  thy  off  spring, taking  the  image  only  of  thy  voice, as  many 

Mortal  things  as  live  and  move  upon  the  earth. 

Therefore  will  I  hymn  Thee,and  sing  thy  might  forever;  for  Thee 

cloth 
All  this  universe  that  circles  round  the  earth  obey,moving  whither- 
soever 
Thou  leadest,  and  is  gladly  swayed  by  Thee.  Such  a  minister  hast 
Thou  in  thine  invincible  hands  :the  two-edged, blazing,imperishable 
Thunderbolt.  For  under  its  stroke  all  Nature  shuddereth,and  by  it 
Thou  guidest  aright  the  Universal  Reason,  that  roams  through  all 
Things,  mingling  itself  with  the  greater  and  the  lesser  lights,  till 
It  has  grown  so  great,  and  become  supreme  king  over  all. 
Nor  is  aught  done  on  the  earth  without  Thee,  O  God,  nor  in  the 

divine 
Sphere  of  the  heavens, nor  in  the  sea,save  the  works  that  evil  men 
Do  in  their  folly.  Yea,  but  Thou  knowest  even  to  find  a  place  for 
Superfluous  things, and  to  order  that  which  is  disorderly, and  things 
not  dear  to  men  are  dear  to  Thee. 

Thus  dost  Thou  harmonize  into  One  all  good  and  evil  things, that 
there  should  be  one  everlasting  Reason  of  them  all. 
And  this  the  evil  among  mortal  men  avoid  and  heed  not;  wretched, 

ever 
Desiring  to  possess  the  good,yet  the}-  nor  see  nor  hear  the  universal 
Law  of  "God,  which  obeying  with  all  their  heart, their  life  would  be 

well. 
But  thev  rush  graceless  each  to  his  own  aim,  some  cherishing  lust 

for 
Fame,  the  nurse  of  evil  strife,  some  bent  on  monstrous  gain,  some 
Turned  to  folly  and  the  sweet  works  of  the  flesh  hastening,  indeed, 
to  bring  the  very  contrary  to  these  things  to  pass. 
But  Thou,  O  Zeus,' he  All-Giver,Dweller  in  the  darkness  of  cloud, 
Lord  of  thunder,save  Thou  men  from  their  unhappy  folly, which  do 
Thou,  O  Father,  scatter  from  their  souls;  and  give  them  to   dis- 
cover that 
Wisdom  in  whose  assurance  Thou  governest  all  things  with  justice; 
So  that  being  honored,  they  may  pay  Thee   honor,  hymning  thy 
Works  continually,  as  it  beseems  a  mortal  man. 
Since  there  can  be  no  greater  glory  for  men  or  gods  than  this, 
Duly  to  praise  forever  the  Universal  Law. 


INDEX. 


Adam: 

date  of  his  creal  ion,  204 ;  fall 
of,  180. 

Affliction  and  faith,  38. 

Agathon  on  the  coward,  176. 

Augustine: 

and  Pelagius,  223;on  Adam, 
224;  on  mora!  freedom,  224; 
the  first  to  anthropomorph- 
ize God,  232. 

Ante-Nicene  Fathers,  422. 

Appointment  of  ministers,  102, 
no. 

Aristotle: 

on  development  of  char- 
acter, 167;  on  manliness, 175; 
on  the  city,  282;  as  a  phil- 
osopher, 294;  on  virtue,  352. 

Bacon,  Roger,  401. 

Bacon,  Lord,  on  theology,  404. 

Belief  saves  nobody,  224. 

Bible: 

considered  as  a  whole,  232; 
should  be  purged,  379;  how   I 
regarded  by  scholars,  410. 

Bill,  Wild,  82. 

Bishop: 

powers  of  dispensation,  162  ; 
a  suspected,  179;  unseemly 
action  of  a,  185;  a  dishonor- 
able, 200. 

Bishopric,  how  sought  after,  198. 

Blood-atonement,  265,  313. 

Blossom : 

Merton  meets  Mrs.,  81;  as 
Job's  comforter,  82;  his 
excuse,  83. 

Buddha,  life  and  death  of,  243. 

Business  is  business,   122. 

Buttolph: 

his  hard  experience,  87;  on 
guarantees,  88;  on  faith,  88. 

"Call:" 


Mr.  Pascoe's  proof  of  a,  47: 
on  "calls"  in  general,  48;  of 
Mr.  Carter,  62,  68,  6q;  more 
fully  discussed,  63,  69. 

Calvin,  284. 

Carter: 

his  "call,"  62,  68;  subject  of 
his  thesis,  67, 

Castles  in  the  air,  51. 

Cause  and  effect,  161. 

Calf,  divinel}'  conceived,  394. 

Change,  all  subject  to,  180. 

Christ: 

concerning  his  divinity,  221, 
234.  253,  270,  335;  concern- 
ing his  deity,  222,  225,  235, 
237.  253,  260,  269,  278,  413; 
Celsus  on,  255;  and  blood- 
atonement,  265;  his  teach- 
ings, 274;  is  supreme,  431. 

Christian  civilization: 

and  heathen,  124,  383. 

Christianity,  383. 

Church: 

and  science,  402 ;  and  creed, 
432. 

Churches  all  at  variance,  401. 

Churchmembers : 

Inhospitality  of,  77;  lives  of, 
124;  first  duty  of,  140. 

Church-officers: 

a  trio  of,  130;  Loveright 
on,  153. 

Church-buildings,  182. 

Cicero: 

on  reason,  374 ;  on  happiness, 
158;  on  justice,  1S4,  191  ;  on 
the  universe,  202;  on  phil- 
osophy, 294. 

Clergy,  how  restrained,  421. 

Communion : 

Scene  at,  189;  meaning  of, 
363. 


437 


438 


INDEX. 


Conception,  divine: 

Homer  on,  233;  commonly 
believed  in,  236,  242,  259;  of 
Christ,  241,  259. 
Conduct,  dishonorable: 
no  excuse  for,  196. 
Consciences,  men's,  79. 
Contraction    and    temperature, 

212. 
Creed,  327,  399,  407,  431. 
Creation : 

Song  of,  163;  of  the  world, 

203;  date  of,  204;  special,  412. 
Croquet,  a  game  of,  105. 
Day,  a  happy,  91. 
Darwin : 

on  the  clergy,  397,  409;  the 

bishop  on,  409. 
Death: 

of  Merton's  father,  24 ;  must 

not    fear,    174,   175;   should 

not  rashly  seek,  174;  of  Mrs. 

Merton,    366;    the   gate    to 

life,  356>  365- 
Death-bed  repentance,  173. 
Deity, howonly  established,  237. 
Democritus,  45. 
Denominations,  setting  up,  85. 
Disappointments,  are  common, 

180. 
Divinity  of  Christ: 

not    satisfactorily     proved, 

237;   and    that    of    Buddha, 

252;  Mr.  Pomposity  on,  259; 

Merton  on,  273. 
Dogmas: 

the   churches   seek,  58;  and 

science,  59;  and  reason,  190, 

225,  248,   303,  434;   leading 

astray,  223. 
Dogmatists: 

escaping  the   question,   59; 

banners  of,  59. 
Dreams,  420. 
Drunkard,  a  typical,  105. 
Duty: 

doing  our,    115,   415;    must 

perform  our,    172,    174,415; 

Kreeshna  on,  262. 
Earth: 

a  child  of  the  sun,  216,  217; 


age  of,  216,  218;  past  history 
of,  217,  interna]  heat  of,  217; 
beginning  of  the  life  of,  218 ; 
different  ages  of,  218;  how 
long  occupied  by  man,  219; 
glacial  epoch  of,  219;  losing 
its  heat,  218. 

Easter,  poem  on,  372. 

Ecclesiastics: 

and  justice,  283;and  legisla- 
tion, 287 ;  Lecky  on,  306;  and 
truth, 421. 

Elder,  the, breaking  promises, 72. 
Energy: 

conservation  of,2i  1 ;  amount 

of,  invariable,  330. 
Episcopal   Bishop,   Merton  and 

the,  100. 
Evangelist,  an,  calls  for  prayer, 

Evil-speaking,  Merton  on,  131. 
Evolution : 

generally  received,  ]  80,  205; 

of    living    forms,    219,   427, 

428;  of  mental  forms,  428. 
Faith : 

the    best,    125;   and    works, 

125,    141,   261;  salvation  by, 

157;  a  reasonable,  433;  and 

truth,  279,  312,  314;  in  the 

churches,  401. 
Faiths: 

thoughts  on    religious,    56; 

Tennyson  on,  181. 
Fall,  on  the,  180,  412. 
Fisher  on  miracles,  334,  336. 
Fixed  State: 

doctrine  of,  i5g;noevidence 

of  a,  161. 
Fraudulent,  Mr.: 

Mr.     Smalleyes     on,     112; 

visits  Mr.  Longshanks,  120; 

Mr.    Longshanks    on,    123; 

Mr.  Loveright  on,  153. 
Friend,  Merton  loses  a,  24. 
Friendship,  327. 
Galileo,  402. 

Genesis,  on   creation,   210,  220. 
God: 

many-named   but  one,  299; 

has  no  favorites,   275,   301, 


INDEX. 


439 


314.  337.  4°5>  4i3;  formless 
and  unbounded,  269;  and 
naturalordei-,65  ;and  reason, 
3S4,  385;  and  nature,  66,434; 
Mr.  Carter  on,  69;  anthro- 
pomorphization  of,  70,  314, 
382,  424;  doeth  all  things 
well,  84,  365;  and  human 
affairs,  96;  sons  of  with 
daughters  of  men,  119;  sons 
of,  235  ;  a  child  of,  140;  just 
and  good,  161  ;man  account- 
able to,  165;  how  revealed, 
165,  340;  infallible,  166,  203; 
deceives  not,  203;  his  revel- 
ation, 220,  263,  301;  his 
fatherhood,  235,  301,  423; 
only  one,  265;  man's  true 
life.  307;  Israelitish  con- 
ception of,  381,  424. 

Godspeed,  Mr.,  kindnessof,  152. 

Globes,  collision  of,  216. 

Goethe: 

a  love  poem,  145;  on  the 
church,  293;  on  the  power 
of  gold,  2ot ;  on  revelation. 
425;  on  the  words  of  the 
gods,  231 ;  on  God's  works, 
267;  on  deliberation,  317, on 
the  character  of  the  gods, 
281 ;  on  priests,  293. 

Gold,  the  power  of,  19S,  199,  201. 

Gospels; 

dead  and  living,  123;  Mill 
on  the,  222;  when  critically 
examined,  226;  the  authors 
of  the,  230 

'Geology,  as  a  science,  218. 

Grasshoppers,  a  shower  of,  92. 

Happiness,  on,  179,  34S,  350. 

Harnack  on  Augustine,  232. 

i  [eadstrong,  Mr.: 

speaks  at  a  revival,  116; 
Longshanks  offends,  117; 
Mr.  Squareman  on,  129,  131 ; 
Merton  calls  on,  137;  on 
book-learning,  138;  advises 
Merton,  140;  Mr.  Loveright 
on,  148. 

Heaven  and  earth,  meaning  of, 
204. 


Heine,  quotation  from,  258. 

Heat:  a  mode    of  motion,    210; 
loss  of  by  the  earth,  218. 

Hell,    located    by    the    Fathers, 
218. 

Heresy,  not  so  bad  as  deception, 
169. 

Holiness,  personal,  58. 

Holy  Ghost,  impressions   from, 
64,  68. 

Honor: 

the  highest  possession,  191; 
how  characterized,  191 ;  and 
priests,  195,  196;  a  reward 
of  virtue,  157. 

Homer,  87,  104,  114,  126,  240. 

Huxley,  Darwin  on,  409. 

Hypocrite: 

a  typical,  98;  in  the  pulpit, 
169,  183,  197;  in  the  con- 
gregation, 327. 

Immaculate    conceptions,     241, 

3i3. 
Immortality : 

Mr.  Gray  on,  233;  Mr. Judex 
on,  246;  man  longs  for,  326, 
423;  Merton  on,  362;  Kant 
on,  364;  leading  thinkers  on, 

423- 
Imputed     Righteousness,     125, 

158. 

Infidel,  Merton  meets  an,  38. 

Insincerity,  175. 

Insurance,  Headstrong  on,   138. 

Jesus: 

persecuted  by  the  church, 
60;  a  martyr  for  the  truth, 
242,  430;  incredible  stories 
about,  242  ;and  Buddha,  243; 
Celsus  on  his  divinity,  255; 
on  his  deity,  269,  270,  274, 
278,  419;  on  his  teachings, 
274, 430;  prayers  to,_  277,  278; 
the  one  sweet  voice,  419; 
Judgment  on,  420;  is  su- 
preme, 430,  431. 

Jordan,  crossing  a,  80. 

Judgment-day,  not  far  off,  161. 

Justice,  practice  of,  makes  just, 

157- 
Kansas : 


44© 


INDEX. 


Merton  invited  to,  71,  a 
beautiful  view  in,  72. 

Kant  on  immortality,  364. 

Kindness :  a  paying  investment, 
108;  power  of,  135. 

Knowledge,  key  of,  239. 

Kreeshna: 

on  immortality,  261 ;  on 
duty,  262. 

Lady,  a  hospitable,  73. 

Laplace,  on  the  original  nebula, 
208. 

Larva,  333. 

Law,  sources  of  the,  283. 

Letter  to  the  bishop,  411. 

Life: 

thoughts  on   the  phases  of, 
54;    must    not  rashly  sacri- 
fice, 176. 

Locke: 

on  miracles,  238;  on  reason, 
156. 

Longshanks,  Mr.: 

Merton  visits,  114;  on  re- 
ligion, 1:5,  117;  on  preach- 
ers'visits,  1 15;  on  Mr.  Small- 
eyes,  119;  on  Mr.  Fraud- 
ulent, 123. 

Luke,  Gospel  of: 

nothing  knownof  its  author, 
229;  not  an  apostle,  229:  not 
an  eye-witness,  229;  state- 
ments of,  229. 

Lyell,  Sir  Charles; 
as  a  geologist,  218. 

Man: 

affected  by  accidents,  160; 
unequally  endowed,  161;  a 
child  of  error,  166;  an  an- 
imal, 328;  fossil  man,  219; 
how  long  on  earth,  219;  self- 
conceited,  325:  desires  im- 
mortality, 326,  423;  his  love 
for  woman,  327,  foetal  life 
of,  329;  his  conception  of 
God,  425;  must  pray.  426; 
should  be  true  to  self,  398. 

Mark,  Gospel  ot: 

little  known  of,  227;  ours 
not  the  original,  227;  not  an 
eye-witness,  228;   a  disciple 


of  Peter,  228;  statements  ofr 
228. 

Marcus  Aurelius: 

on  mental  improvement,  30; 
on  studious  attention,  53;  on 
doing  our  duty,  no;  on 
preparation  for  death,  115. 

Masters,  serving  two,  398,  403. 

Matthew,  Gospel  of: 

original  work  lost,  226; 
translation  of  questionable, 
226.  227. 

Meekface,  Mr.,  on    Mr.  Square- 
man,  132,  134 

Megalauchus,  Mr.,  goes  a   fish- 
ing, 195- 

Men  after  God's  own  heart,  231. 

Merton: 

his  parents,  24,  29;  and 
the  professor,  27;  his  relig- 
ious experience,  26,  39; 
how  impressed  in  youth,  33- 
35;  and  "sloping,"  36;  his 
early  doubts,  39;  takes  his 
first  degree,  40;  and  Mr. 
Tubbs,  42;  in  the  great  city, 
53;  his  hopes  not  realized, 
55;  takes  his  second  degree, 
62,  71 ;  vain  hopes  of,  60;  on 
nature,  66;  on  prayer,  66; 
uncertainty  of,  39,  40,  68; 
his  first  charge,  75;  a  peril- 
ous journey, 84;  pursued  by 
wolves, 93; offends  Mr.  Soul- 
less, 95;  accepts  a  new  ap- 
pointment, 100;  receives 
advice,  102;  and  Mrs. 
Woundedheart,  107;  advises 
Mr.  Meekface,  135;  leaves 
Methodism,  155;  and  the 
examiner,  167;  and  Mr.  In- 
sanitas,  187;  and  Mr.  Meg- 
alauchus, 192;  receives  his 
third  degree,  283;  takes  his 
fourth  and  fifth  degrees, 308. 

Ministers: 

young,  how  favored,  24;  as 
students,  25,  27,  28;  young, 
great  professions  of,  25; 
young,  characters  of,  31 ;  the 
marks  they  leave,  82;  giving 


INDEX. 


441 


advice,  101;  Mrs.Merton  on, 
102;  tobacco-chewing,  106; 
and  the  Holy  Ghost,  149; 
plotting,  172,  180;  their 
labors,  181,  182;  the  actions 
of  certain,  190;  hypocrisy 
of,  201,  421;  skeptical,  223, 
421 ;  illogical,  254,  378;  dup- 
ing their  followers,  245;  an 
assembly  of,  420. 

Mill    on    the   authority   of    the 
Gospels,  230. 

Miracles: 

impossible  to  prove,  48,  273; 
how  the  credulous  assume, 
5°.  335,  395;  not  admissible, 
205,  316,  336,  379;  New- 
Testament,  238, 241,  253,  273; 
not  essential,  260;  improb- 
ability of,  272;  non-occur- 
rence of,  379. 

Missionaries  and  salvation,  301. 

Moses  and  the  Pentateuch,  378. 

Murderer  and  Murdered,  158. 

Nirvana,  388. 

Nature: 

bond  of  sympathy  in,  51; 
differently  impressed  by, 52 ; 
and  God,  52,  347;  a  divine 
organism,  66;  ever  chang- 
ing, 347- 

Nebular  Hypothesis: 

generally  accepted,  206, 207, 
209. 

Nicene  Creed,  398. 

Noble,   the,  hovv  distinguished, 
191. 

Opinion,  should  not  readily  give 
up,  167. 

Ordination,   little  required  for, 
162. 

Organs,  Headstrong  on,  138 

Origen,    excommunication    of, 
256. 

Orthodoxy  : 

dogmas  of.  unproved,  222, 
305 ;  and  the  facts  of  science, 
222;  its  followers,  421. 

Ovid,  quotation  from,  92. 

Pascoe,  Mr.,  proof  of  his  call,  47. 

Pericles,  346. 


Physician,  heal  thyself,  128. 

Plato :  268,  247,  276,  282,  295, 414. 

Plautus  on  freedom,  416. 

Poems: 

39,  40,  163,  164,  372,  385, 
406,  417. 

Pope,  the: 

and  English  Church,  285; 
and  John  Calvin,  284. 

"  Power,"  the: 

Mr.  Headstrong  on,  138;  ex- 
periencing, 140;  and  min- 
isters, 148. 

Prayer: 

proper   use  and  end  of,  66, 

338,  342-  345:  for  the  dead» 
370;  a  natural  cry,  234,  307, 
426. 

Preserve, a  rare,  89. 

Priests: 

scheming,  181 ;  and  honor, 
191,  195,  197;  going  around 
the  world,  193;  and  infor- 
mation,197  ;and  loveof  gold, 
199;  and  hypocrisy,  199,  200, 
201 ;  and  unbelief,  240;  Mr. 
Judex  on,  248;  and  power, 
284.285,  291;  and  politics, 
283,  285,  293;  teaching  and 
practice  of,  290;  and  phil- 
anthropy, 292,  341 ;  and 
science,3io;and  pulpit,  309. 

Pulpit,  the: 

its  true  work,  164,  18S;  kind 
of  men  filling  it,  188;  as  it 
is,  309. 

Profession,  vain,  123. 

Professor,  the,  and  the  shoe,  28. 

Protestantism,  395. 

Providence,  Headstrong  on,  13S. 

Reason : 

man's  glory,  165;  Cicero  on, 
374;  Livy  on,  374;  Few  live 
a  life  of,  352;  a  poem  on,  385; 
in  the  churches,  403-,  ihe 
temple  of,  416;  the  gift  of 
God,  63;  Locke  on,  156. 

Religious  Experience,  untrust- 
worthy, 32. 

Religion  and  Science,  59. 

Religious   Principles,   how    de- 


442 


INDEX. 


veloped,  33. 

Religion : 

a  central  fact,  245,  301,  426; 
should  be  purified,  264; 
common  to  humanity,  264; 
fundamentally  true,  263; 
sources  of,  283;  and  politics, 
284,  285;  and  truth,  316; 
what,  425. 

Richter,  394. 

Revelation: 

fitted  to  man's  growth,  239, 
420;not  infallible  nor  com- 
plete, 263;  not  direct,  304; 
and  natural  order,  313,  411; 
universal,  301,  379;  not 
special,  378,  412. 

Revivals: 

results  of,  29,  116;  Mr.  Love- 
right  on,  147;  a  scene  at,  149. 

Revivalists,  116,  147. 

Resurrection,  32S,  333,  337. 

Ride,  a,  for  life,  94. 

Righteousness,     personal     and 
imputed,  58. 

Ritterhaus  on  the  true  wife,  177. 

Sacraments,  save  not,  173. 

Saint,  a,  with  seven  devils,  134. 

Salis,  356. 

Salvation: 

by  faith,  157;  by  works,  260, 
302. 

Sanctification : 

Merton  professes,  25; 
meetings  for,  28. 

Sanctity,  Father: 

his  speech,  42;  his  prayer, 
43;  his  hypocrisy,  44. 

Savigny,  282. 

Saws,  ten  thousand,  89, 

Science: 

and  religion,  59;  and  mir- 
acles, 205;  and  orthodoxy, 
222,  402,  and  theology,  225; 
and  revelation,  411. 

Sincerity : 

nothing  so  desirable,  169, 
170;  lack  of  in  the  pulpit, 
183,  312;  necessary,  397. 

Slanderers: 

Mrs.  Merton  on,   111,   123; 


examples  of,  133. 

Slander:    Mr.   Squareman    on, 
127. 

Smalk-yes,  Mr.,  on  slander,  112 

Solar  System : 

one  of  many,  206;  age  of,2o6. 

Soulless,  Mr.: 

a  crabbed  old  fellow,  87;  a 
Shylock,  95;  Merton  leaves, 
96;  Mr.  Smith  on,  97. 

Shakspere,  70,  142,  170,  221. 

Schiller,  52,  164,  197,  435. 

Skepticism : 

among  ministers,  183,  312; 
among  the  learned,  284. 

Spencer,    Herbert,    and    super- 
stition, 409. 

Squash,  a  load  for  quarterage, 82. 

Subscriptions,   Longshanks   on 
church,  118. 

Suffering,  results  of,  372. 

Stewards: 

stealing  timber,  121;  plot- 
ting against  one  another, 
122. 

Substance,  one  and  divine,  388. 

Sun: 

Helmholtz  on,  206:  Tyndall 
on,  206;  Youmans  on,  207; 
a  star,  209;  origin  of,  210; 
its  heat,  21 1;  contraction  of, 
212,  214;  existence  of  prior 
to  the  earth,  212;  present 
condition  of,  213,  214;  age 
of,  215,216. 

Teacher: 

character  of  his  work,  182. 

Testament,    Old,  its  teachings, 

231. 
Testament,  New,  fruit  of   many 

trees,  232. 
Temperature  and  Contraction, 

213 

Te  Deum,  436. 

Theologians: 

how  characterized,  44;  what 
they  seek,  57;  their  great 
error,  232;  Lord  Bacon  on, 
404. 

Theological  Schools: 

their  character.  45,  46,  65. 


INDEX. 


443 


Theological  Professors: 

how  restrained,  45;  repair- 
ing the  breaches,  46. 

Thoughts,  Emerson  on,  183. 

Thunderstorm,  a,  85. 

Tobacco,  foul  uses  of,  92. 

Town,  a  strange,  104. 

Trustees: 

Mrs.  Woundedheart  on, 
109;  yet  not  trusted,  113. 

Truth : 

alone  saves,  57,  224;  what, 
115;  and  faith,  181,  279,  312; 
and  religion,  316. 

Truthful.  Mr.: 

hospitality  of,  75,  76;  anx- 
iety of,  90. 

Truthseeker,  Mr.,  meets  Mer- 
ton,  142. 

Unbelief,  causes  of,  422. 

Universe; 

subject  to  decay  and  death, 
205;  not  created  in  fact,  205, 
208,  21  2,  220. 

Vergil,  39,  71,98,  99. 

Vicarious  Atonement,  313;  evil 
lesults  of  faith  in,  125;  no 
faith  in,  413. 

Virgin,  conception  by,  238,  240, 
241.  313. 

Virgin  Mary:  a  lawful  wife,  257. 

Virtue : 

definition  of,  352;  a  result, 
353:    its  own    reward,   354; 


brings  peace,  354. 

Virtuous  Acts,  whatconstitutes, 
166. 

Visions,  420. 

Visit,  Merton  makes  a,  104. 

Votaries,  religious,  286. 

Walk: 

a  long,  79,  81 ;  a  perilous,  84. 

Wheat,  Mr.,  and  his  call,  149. 

Wife: 

"a  rum  one,"  85 ;  dearer  than 
all,  92,  144;  good,  the  gift  of 
God,  177;  husband's  love  for, 

327.  369. 
Woman : 

beautiful,     power     of,     78; 

beautiful  and  good,  88;  with 

the  serpent's  sting,  107;  Mr. 

Headstrong  on,    137;  man's 

love  for,  327. 
Workandpray  Mr.; 

on  divine  forgiveness,  143: 

on  Mrs.  Squareman,  143. 
Work : 

unproductive,  1 11;  and  faith, 

141. 
World,  creation  of,  203. 
Worldly  Men  and  Churchmem- 

bers,  124;  Sunshine  on,  144. 
Worship,  must  be  sincere,  415. 
Woundedheart,  Mrs.: 

on  the  church-officers,  io7; 

Merton's  appeal  to,  108. 
Zoroaster  on  God,  263. 


A  GREAT  WORK  BY  THE  SAME  AUTHOR 

"God  and  Man" 


OR 


"A  PHILOSOPHICAL  INQUIRY  INTO  THE  PRINCIPLES 

OF  RELIGION." 


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"The  use  made  of  his  large  knowledge  is  judicious  and 
effective." — The  Religio-  Philosophical  yournal,  Chicago. 

"The  work  will  commend  itself." — St.  Louis  Spectator. 

"The  work  teems  with  scholarship." — Standard,  Bridgeport 
Conn. 

"  A  surprising  book;  a  brave  and  learned  one." — Freethought, 
San  Francisco,  Cal. 

"Here  are  pages  of  thorough  scholarship." — Gazette,  Daven- 
port, la. 

"  A  work  constructed  with  great  breadth  of  view." — Evening 
J  \  'isco  n  sin ,  Mihva  ukee . 

"A  scholarly  and  commanding  treatise."  —  Record-Union^ 
Sacramento,  Cal 

Address  :     THE  TRURO  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 

Chicago,  III. 


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